A/N: So just a short something-something that I wanted to write because...I dunno know actually. But hopefully you'll enjoy this little piece until the next chapter of my other story (I haven't forgotten it, just having a little trouble putting pen to paper...). Sorry in advance for any OOC, tried my best!

Warnings: swearing, boyxboy...

Disclaimer: I no own bleach... :'(

He liked watching him.

He liked watching him walking, eating, drinking, smiling, laughing (though he didn't do that a lot), socializing…he liked to watch all of it. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he made it his business to be there, just out of sight, and watch him. Bore holes into him. Analyze him – from the top of his sunset-coloured hair all the way down his lean build and slim legs, until his voracious gaze finally rested on those perfectly-sized feet. Yeah, even his foot size was perfect to him. The more he watched, the more he realized that everything the beautiful male did was utterly…flawless. He was entranced – every movement cast a spell on him, until he couldn't look away.

It didn't help that the other lived down the hallway from him. Because of that, they usually visited the same restaurants, the same bars, the same clothing stores…almost everywhere he went, his face haunted him, whether he liked it or not. It was that constant exposure that drove him crazy, that made him want to kidnap him sometimes, just so he could have that perfection all to himself.

But what really made him see red was how the other was constantly surrounded by, what were to his mind, threats. Girls seemed to gravitate towards him, constantly flirting and unashamedly putting their assets on display. It didn't matter to him that the one receiving the attention never seemed to notice it – it was the principle of the matter! You didn't mess with someone else's property…and the man was – the man was Grimmjow Jaegerjaques property. He just didn't know it.

Every Sunday, Grimmjow had baseball practice. He played for a local team, competing against other teams from around the city, sometimes the district. Since the majority of the team's players all lived within a relatively short distance from each other, they had agreed to hold the practices at the local park. This was more than fine for Grimmjow, because on Sundays, a certain obsession of his (though he refused to call it that) was also found at the park, usually just hanging out with his friends.

But sometimes Grimmjow got lucky, and one of the friends – usually the obnoxious red-head – would bring a soccer ball and they'd all play. At times like these, Grimmjow would take a break and lounge around in the shade, enjoying the fluid way that the other moved, the way those vibrant strands whipped around his flushed face, the way his ochre eyes flashed and gleamed in delight. Grimmjow would lie there and get lost in the sight before him, imagining the things he could do to that body. His body would burn to go over and make the man pant for him, flush for him, for those eyes to be centered squarely on him and him only.

Then there were those blessed days, when the sun was especially hot and waves of heat could be seen rolling off the asphalt. The park would be filled with scantily dressed people.

Including him.

Grimmjow would not let the man out of his hungry sights on those days. He would track every twitch, every pulse, every stretch and every ripple of those mouth-watering muscles. His own body would overheat and his head would become fuzzy of everything except the other's utter flawlessness. The familiar tightness in his lower half would come back in full force, and he'd be left with an aching hard-on in seconds. These were the times that the part of Grimmjow that wanted to go over and introduce himself – before promptly bending him over a flat surface and fucking the shit out of him that is – grew almost unbearable. But he would just close his eyes and try to get his breathing under control again, before standing up and going back to practice.

He was content to just watch.

Grimmjow may have been content to just watch, but it seemed that fate didn't nearly have the same idea.

It was another hot Sunday and practice was just wrapping up for Grimmjow. He was jogging lightly around the field to cool down, picking up their cones in the process, when out of nowhere, an object hit him square in the back. He went down hard, tripping over his own feet, but managed to soften the fall with his hands. He hissed as he felt dirt and rocks lodge themselves in his split skin. 'Damn, those'll be a pain to get out.'

At the thought, he felt a hot burst of anger rise in him. 'Which son of a bitch hit me? They'll learn not to mess with Grimmjow fucking Jaegerjaques!'

Set on his war path, Grimmjow straightened up to his full height and aimed a fierce glare behind him. What he didn't expect was the sight of this particular man heading towards him – a man with bright orange hair and the most adorable sheepish look on his face. His heart stalled and his mouth went dry at the thought of finally interacting with his guilty pleasure. Already, he could feel something stirring, both in his heart and his dick.

"Hey, you okay there? No permanent damage, right?" The man in front of him laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. At the blank stare, a flash of worry crossed his face. "Hey, I'm serious. Is everything alright?" He placed a hesitant had on his arm.

Grimmjow snapped to the moment the hand touched his skin. Making a herculean effort to get his pulse under control, Grimmjow smirked. "Of course I am. Shit like that ain't enough to hurt me."

That earned him a laugh. "Okaay there Superman. I was just asking." Grinning, he stuck his hand out. "Names Kurosaki, by the way. Ichigo Kurosaki."

Grimmjow snorted. "Strawberry? Yer parents named ya after a fruit?"

The man – no, Ichigo – scowled. "No, they didn't! It means 'to protect'! God, why do people always assume it's the other?!"

Grimmjow shrugged, the smirk still resplendent on his face. "I dunno. Maybe it's 'cause ya look like such a fruitcake."

Grimmjow could literally see the other's top fly off, as his face turned red with anger and embarrassment. "You're such an ASSHOLE!" His voice carried over to a group of children playing a couple of feet away and they looked up from their play.

Ichigo's eyes flicked to the startled group, before landing back on Grimmjow. "Fuck you, man! I wish you'd gotten injured. I would've laughed at your pathetic ass!"

A small part of Grimmjow wondered what he was doing, antagonizing the man he'd lusted after for months now, the man who was a recurrent star in his steamiest dreams. He knew he was basically ruining the only chance he'd possibly ever have of claiming Ichigo, but he was just too funny when he was angry. He literally couldn't help himself.

"Maybe if you weren't so loud, that wouldn't have happened. Somebody really needs to stuff that mouth of yers real good…." His voice turned husky at the end and Ichigo flushed at the insinuation.

"Whatever buddy, I'm leaving!"

"But you didn't ask my name!" Grimmjow called after him playfully.

"I don't care!"

Grimmjow laughed at the profile the other man made, shoulders hunched and the back of his neck flushed rosily. He couldn't help but grin at the sight. God, he wanted him.

He cradled the drink in his hand gently, absently watching the small drops of perspiration trailing slowly down the glass. Around him, the bar buzzed with noise and the dim lights filtered murkily through the dank clouds of smoke and evaporated sweat, offset by the deep, cloying scent of too many strong perfumes intermingling. Grimmjow crinkled his nose in distaste and sighed quietly. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing here, really. He'd planned on spending the evening in front of the TV followed by a stint in the shower, getting re-acquainted with his hand.

'Not even. It's like my fucking best friend these days.'

And all because of a certain orange-haired beauty. Man, what he wouldn't do to get his hands on him…he was shaken out of his thoughts when a heavy hand clapped on his shoulders, making him jump slightly.

"Hey Kitty-kitty, why so blue?" Grimmjow growled at the almost 7-foor tall bean-pole behind him and punched him hard in the shoulder.

"Call me that once more and you'll die a dickless death."

Nnoitra Gilga raised his hands in a placating gesture and showed off his piano-toothed grin. "It ain't my fault yer such great fodder for jokes, Grimmy. What's wrong with wanting ta make ma best friend smile?"

"I'm not. In the. Mood."

If possible, Nnoitra's grin got even wider. "Well, I think I know what'll cure that…"

"What? Make sense Gilga," Grimmjow huffed in exasperation.

He cackled in response. "Well, don't look now, but a certain berry just walked into the room."

Grimmjow's blood froze as he whipped his head towards the entrance to confirm that yes, Ichigo Kurosaki was in fact, entering the establishment.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck," he chanted under his breath. He was not ready to face the man again, so soon after the last time this morning. Nnoitra, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

"How about we invite him over, huh?" he asked gleefully.

Grimmjow pinned the other with a lethal gaze. "Don't you dare Nnoi!"

"Aww. Whatsa matter Grimmy, can't handle the pressure?"

"No! I just – haven't had time to…"

"Time to whaaat…?" He wasn't about to let this go – Grimmjow like this was just too hilarious!

"…to perfect…my – uh – proposition…?"

Nnoitra doubled over in laughter. "'Perfect your proposition?' Are you fucking serious, Grimmjow?!"

Grimmjow crossed his arms petulantly as tears ran down Nnoi's face. "You're such a pussy, Grimm. Look wait, I got this for ya." And with that, Nnoitra wiped his tears and called out loudly to Ichigo, who was loitering, watching his friends on the dance floor with a drink in his hand.

"OI! ICHIGO! GET OVER HERE!" The noise was drowned out by the rest of the club's cacophony, but it seemed that Ichigo heard it just fine. His head swung around as he tried to locate where the call had come from. His gaze stopped at where they were seated at a booth and his eyes narrowed. Nnoitra, pleased that he'd gotten the oranget's attention, waved frantically for the other to join him, while Grimmjow tried to bury himself in the floor.

Slowly, Ichigo peeled himself of the wall and strolled towards the little alcove where the two were sitting. Seeing the other advance, Grimmjow downed the rest of his glass' contents, seeking a little liquid courage. The alcohol burned the whole way it went down but Grimmjow was pleasantly surprised to notice that he was already slightly buzzed.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ichigo asked, irritation rolling off him in waves.

Nnoitra mock-pouted and said, "Aw Ichi-berry. Why so angry, huh?"

"Well, maybe it's 'cause I don't know you or maybe it's 'cause you're sitting beside the most obnoxious man in the world!"

Grimmjow fixed his hot gaze on the berry and smirked. "Aww, no hard feelings, right Ichi? I was just having a bit a fun!"

Ichigo placed his hand on his hip and glowered. "Whatever, buddy. I don't need this crap. I'm–" He was cut off when Nnoitra's hand landed on his shoulder and roughly steered him inside the booth. He followed after quickly, resulting in Ichigo being sandwiched between the two bodies, somewhere he'd rather not be.

For a second, Ichigo could only sit in shock as the two hard bodies pressed against either side of him. Then the blush-fest started and he began to squirm, trying desperately to escape.

"Hey! What's the big idea here? Let me the fuck out!"

Grimmjow laughed as Nnoitra grinned maniacally and slung his arm around Ichigo's shoulders, trapping him in place. "Whatsa matter, Ichi? Ya don't like?"

Ichigo scowled even harder and pushed the offending arm off. "Look, I don't know what you guys are trying to pull, but I'm not interested!"

Grimmjow leaned closer to his blushing berry and blew softly in his ear. "But you don't even know what's on the table. Who knows…maybe you'll enjoy it." He finished off with a gentle lick to the strawberry's ear. Ichigo shuddered against him and an almost inaudible moan escaped those lush lips. As the noise registered, three things happened: Grimmjow felt his chances with his Ichi suddenly skyrocket, Ichigo clapped his hands over his mouth and Nnoitra re-evaluated where things were now steadily progressing. He'd known for a long time that his friend had lusted after the vibrant male. He himself felt no physical attraction towards the other, and so he decided to back off before things really started to heat up. He would let Grimmjow have his fun.

Grimmjow flicked his eyes up questioningly when Nnoitra slid out of the booth, snagging Ichigo's discarded drink. At the receiving grin and lewd lick of his lips, Grimmjow snickered quietly. This was why this man was his best friend. With another wink, Nnoitra strolled off.

Sighing happily, he buried his nose into those sunset locks and inhaled deeply. Vanilla and something citrusy assaulted his senses and his libido went into overdrive. God, no man should ever smell this enticing.

Meanwhile, Ichigo shifted uncomfortably under the attention. The man beside him was a certified asshole and he shouldn't be letting his do this, but something about his touch and attention sparked a seed of need in him. His body responded on its own and he turned to face the blunet, their faces inches apart.

"You shouldn't – This isn't happening."

Grimmjow's eyes flicked down to those plump lips and then back to those molten eyes. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."


"It's my name and what you'll be screaming tonight. I suggest you get used to it." With that, he crashed their lips together.

Ichigo felt his heartbeat hit the roof as those impossibly soft lips moved against his and he couldn't help but respond back. Time lost all meaning as their lips moved and molded against each other. Growing impatient, Grimmjow's tongue swiped and prodded against Ichigo's lips and Ichigo promptly opened his mouth, accepting the probing muscle into his hot cavern. Tongues fought a short battle for dominance, but Ichigo was quickly overpowered. He didn't mind though, and just focused on matching the furious pace set by the blunet. Hands tangled in each other's clothing, and Grimmjow plucked irritably at Ichigo's button. Ichigo groaned and shifted even closer, burrowing his own hands into that impossibly soft mass of hair. He ran his hands through the strands gently and was rewarded with a soft gasp from Grimmjow. Encouraged, he moved them down the broad back, pausing to gently knead Grimmjow's lower back before teasingly flicking his fingers under Grimmjow's belt.

Grimmjow smirked against Ichigo's lips and gently sucked the lower lip into his mouth. Swallowing the man's quiet groans, he released the swollen lip and gasped quietly. "Still not interested?"

Ichigo clenched his fists tightly in Grimmjow shirt and swiped his tongue coyly against Grimmjow's lips. "I might've…changed my mind."

Grimmjow's chest rumbled in a deep laugh. "The goods finally convince ya?"

Ichigo grinned and grabbed a handful of that tight, pert ass. "The quality's…quite exceptional."

"You wanna get out?"

"I have my car."

"Let's go."

A/N: Yeah so just a fun little thing that I enjoyed writing. Now this is the part where you guys review! Oh pretty please! As an incentive I promise to post a second chapter full of delicious lemons if ya'll want that! Until next time!