Author's Note: Heya, guys! Haven't been here in a while :O I'm sorry I haven't been updating, but I felt like I lost my touch, so I needed a little reminder of why I loved writing so much. So… I wrote this.


Ichigo didn't know why he was staring at a child with tufts of turquoise hair, and electric-blue eyes accompanied by a set of down-turned lips. He found it odd that the kid looked like an exact replica of his boyfriend, Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez. The child challenged his baffled stare with fixed, knitted eyebrows.

At first, he had been shocked to come upon this naked, wild child running loose outside the sixth squad's barracks, but now, he was more than a bit confused. Grimmjow couldn't have possibly screwed a Shinigami, causing her to give birth to this… mutant child, could he? It wasn't as if he could impregnate women, right?

But the more he scrutinized this child, the more suspicious he became. Then the child spoke "Who the hell are you?" in that same rebellious and taunting tone his boyfriend had, only heightening the probability, that yes, his boyfriend had royally fucked someone and she gave birth.

His assumptions were immediately quelled though when he caught sight of Nemu racing towards them with her usual poker face, shouting a monotonous "Jeagerjaquez-san, please return to the twelfth squad barracks. Mayuri-sama would like to analyze you."

The child, supposedly his lover, spit a considerable amount of saliva, nearly nicking his foot, with distaste. "Damn you, old hag!" the child harrumphed. Before he could even contemplate his next chance of escape, Ichigo hefted him onto his shoulder, a thrashing of arms and legs immediately ensuing. "Put me down, you bastard!"

Yup, this was definitely Grimmjow, Ichigo thought. Seeing how Ichigo had successfully trapped the young Espada, Nemu screeched to a halt with a bow of apology. "Kurosaki Ichigo, please hand Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez over."

Ichigo sighed. "What the hell has he done now? Why"-he paused after a harsh slap to his cheek-"is he this damn small?"

"Shut the hell up, dandelion! You aren't such hot stuff, either!" the child argued, continuing his abuse on Ichigo's back. Ichigo ignored him to his best abilities.

"Nemu, what the hell happened?" Frankly, he was scared to find out.

"Mayuri-sama challenged Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez into a duel, and they agreed that if he lost, he would undergo a new invention that Mayuri-sama has created," Nemu explained with efficiency.

"And lemme guess, Grimmjow lost like the moron he was?"

"Precisely."

Ichigo sighed for the umpteenth time. "So, how the hell are we supposed to change him back?"

"The injection will wear off within a few days or so- three being the longest." Ichigo mentally slapped himself. How the hell was he supposed to handle this brat? He couldn't even fend him off in his original form. How was he supposed to go about this now that he was a kid?

Seeing how pondering the inevitable future wouldn't solve the current predicament, he stopped and shifted Grimmjow onto his other shoulder. The first thing he had to do was to lose the twelfth squad's scent on him; that way he wouldn't be drugged, or most likely killed within a week.

"I'm gonna take care of this brat in the meantime, then." Grimmjow's thrashing increased.

"You can forget it, carrot-top! I'm not going anywhere!" Grimmjow screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Ah? Who the hell do you think you're bossing around, pipsqueak?" he ground out through clenched teeth, burying a knuckle on Grimmjow's puny head. The minimized arrancar squealed at the mistreatment, his shriek of hurt falling on deaf ears. "You're coming with me whether you like it or not."

And with that, he was carried like a lofty sack on Ichigo's shoulder, his naked ass being paraded throughout Seireitei.

XXXX

After finally forcing Grimmjow into a pair of Yachiru's shinigami robes, and after finally peeling the boy from the eleventh squad's barbaric, bloodthirsty members, they were on a stroll towards the sixth squad's barracks once more.

The child had grown tired batting at Ichigo's back, but his mouth was far from it. He continued to spout nonsense about Ichigo's hair, something Ichigo was used to ignoring, so he shifted to a different tactic of annoyance, and that was to comment on how stupid and 'bastard-y' the Substitute Shinigami was, and provoking him into a clash of swords.

"You're a scaredy-cat, aren't ya, Strawberry?" "Why can't we fight? Is it because you know I'm stronger?" "Fight me, you bastard-y porcupine!" "If you don't fight me, I'll kick you, you stupid Orange!"

His words only changed in subject when he demanded food, his need accentuated by a growl of frustration from his stomach. "Deal with it. I don't have food lying around, and I have no money to buy anything," Ichigo explained with a tick of his eyebrow.

"I knew it! You're poor and weak!" Grimmjow shrieked, stomping his foot in indignation. "Get me food now, you scrawny chicken!"

Ichigo had just about had it as he pulled the boy in front of him to grind another of his knuckles on his head. "I told you I had nothing, you brat," Ichigo hissed.

Even then, the child had enough rebellion in him to shriek a huffy "So!" in his face. Just when Ichigo thought he'd reached breaking point, he heard a familiar, female voice call out to him in the distance, and they both glanced towards its origin.

It turned out that it was Rukia, who had been on patrol duty and was taking a stroll for her break. Undoubtedly, she noticed right off the bat the similarity that the child had with the sixth Espada, and came to the conclusion that a terrible accident must've taken place. "So let me get this straight… Grimmjow has turned into a five-year-old?"

"I'm not five, mushroom-head!" Disregarding the impolite observation of her state of hair, Rukia kneeled down to his height, Grimmjow's pout deepening in distrust. "What do you want?" Grimmjow growled as toughly and manly as he could.

Rukia gazed at him for a moment, and with a close of her eyes and a firm evaluation, she opened them and nearly glomped him to death with squeals of "So adorable! So cute! Adorable! Adorable!"

Grimmjow had attempted to peel her off, but due to his skinny arms of bone and skin, he was having 'minor' difficulties. In the end, Ichigo had to step in after finally registering, that yes, Grimmjow was being embraced to death by his fellow companion obsessed with abnormally 'cute' things.

"Did you say you were hungry, little one? Why, I might just have the recipe to fill that tummy of yours!" Rukia cooed. Ichigo nearly gagged at the sight of her going 'goo-goo gaa-gaa.'

XXXX

Rukia had invited the both of them into the unused kitchen of the thirteenth squad. Ichigo half expected there to be at least a few cobwebs here and there, but the floor was spic and span, the walls were white and smooth, and the cooking instruments untouched.

"It'll only be a moment!" she announced, and had immediately set off to work. Ichigo was ready for Grimmjow to wander around and mess with shit he wasn't supposed to mess with, but shockingly, the child was still with the exception of his feet swishing about while he sat.

The kid was surprisingly behaved. But just in case he ever reverted back to his usual pestering and violent self, Ichigo kept a keen eye on him, alert and prepared for the next tantrum.

Fortunately, Rukia had whipped up the brat's dinner in the nick of time. She served the platter, uncovering the dish with a napkin and a "ta-dah!" spewing from her lips in satisfaction.

When he laid his eyes upon 'dinner,' he actually prayed that it wasn't what it looked like. He veered his attention back and forth between Rukia's brimming face and 'food,' making sure that what he was seeing was truly real.

Everything on the plate was shaped into those dastardly Chappy bunnies Rukia oh-so-adored: the sushi, the vegetables swimming around in his miso soup, and the fish.

He hoped to Dear Kami-sama that Grimmjow wouldn't mind the dish she prepared, but sure enough, he minded it. "What the hell is this?" He picked up what seemed to be a bear-shaped makizushi, and twirled it around in his hands in examination.

"It's your dinner! I prepared it in the style of Chappy the Rabbit respectfully!" she stated proudly, a triumphant smirk plastered on her lips with a cross of her overconfident arms.

Grimmjow cringed at the dish, which thankfully went unnoticed by the spewing happiness in front of them. Luckily, Rukia had to immediately resume her duty, so she didn't have to hear the disapproval shooting like rockets from Grimmjow's mouth. "Here, you eat this crap, you stupid Strawberry."

"This is all the food you're getting, so you might as well just eat it now," Ichigo suggested with a scratch of irritation at his scalp.

"You can go die first before that!" Grimmjow vetoed wholly, shaking his head from side to side.

Ichigo growled, crowning Grimmjow's tenacious head with his trembling fingers. "I said eat, you stubborn brat!"

Grimmjow battled head-on with Ichigo's fury-flamed, Hershey eyes, a deep scowl marring his baby face. "I won't eat it, and you can't make me, baldy!"

Ichigo smirked with irritation, his grip tightening ever so slightly on Grimmjow's head. "Oh yeah?"

XXXX

Eventually, the duo arrived at the sixth squad's barracks before it got any darker outside. That was right after Ichigo had literally force-fed the child into swallowing every last trace of food on his plate. The brat had spewed the food out on his face too many times to count.

He was sure that wasn't the finale of the night. No, he was definitely sure this was gonna be it: getting Grimmjow to take a bath. He was already hard-bent on omitting baths out of his life if Ichigo hadn't had a say in it, and now that Grimmjow's state of mind was reduced to a kindergartener's, his stubbornness would wholly win out against his coherency, which wasn't much to begin with.

Luckily enough for him, he was able to find something in Byakuya's guest room to entertain the little horror while he set up the bath. When he felt that the water was warm enough for the shitty rascal, he went back into the room to retrieve him.

Just when Grimmjow was about to rip the book he was holding apart in his hands, Ichigo swiftly shunpoed over, successfully preventing him from wrecking any of Byakuya's 'precious' diaries. The minute he stepped foot into the bathroom, he quickly divested the boy of his Shinigami robes and doused him with hot water before the whipping of his arms and legs came about.

"Ah! What the hell are ya doing, you dumb berry!" the puny tyrant yelped, trying to free his midriff from Ichigo's firm hold.

"Hold still-" Ichigo began when he felt a powerful jab delivered to his stomach.

"Fight me if you wanna fight me, you citrus bastard!" With a determined battle-cry, Grimmjow swooped down to lock his jaws around Ichigo's hand.

"Ow! You damn punk!" Ichigo shrieked, his legs shooting up in reaction, Grimmjow's flailing body being brought with his sudden ascent.

Grimmjow voiced something into his hand, but it was muffled. The words, Ichigo was sure, though incoherent, were probably something a little child wasn't supposed to spout. Seeing how Ichigo wasn't relenting despite the firm grip of his teeth, Grimmjow leaped to the Shinigami's neck instead, attempting to choke the daylights out of him.

Unfortunately, this only served to topple the both of them out of balance, causing Ichigo to slip on a puddle of water and successfully parachuting them both into the filled bath tub. Ichigo simmered quietly, his fists shaking as Grimmjow spluttered about uncontrollably.

Having enough of this silly business, Ichigo tugged the boy to his side, freeing him from his oncoming watery death. Since there was no use crying over spilt milk, Ichigo proceeded to knead shampoo into Grimmjow's hair, who froze at the sudden realization, that right now, he couldn't be any more wetter than fish.

"What are you trying to do to me, you stupid-head?" Grimmjow argued, attempting to fend off the tan hands from his body.

"Will you hold still!" Ichigo gritted through his teeth, squirting more of Byakuya's cherry blossom shampoo into his hand. Fortunately, Byakuya was in his office, the opposite of where the bathroom was placed, so he couldn't hear the goings-on inside. Or maybe he did hear, and knew that staying away was best.

"Stop touching me, you perverted Strawberry!" Grimmjow screeched, pulling at the roots of Ichigo's apricot spikes.

"Ow! Leggo!"

"Then quit touching me, you horny bastard!" He pulled even harder, and Ichigo was sure that if he hadn't have peeled the petite hands from his hair in time he would've received bald spots. He speedily submerged the exploding dynamite underwater, momentarily silencing him with the exception of bubbles popping to the surface.

The Substitute Shinigami took Grimmjow's temporary paralysis as a chance to wash the soap away, shedding off his own Shinigami attire as he went. Wouldn't want to parade around Byakuya's house with water trailing behind them, Ichigo thought.

When he deemed that the kid was pretty soap-free, he allowed the boy his air, somewhat glad that he hadn't drowned. Grimmjow coughed and hacked the water that had inadvertently entered his nostrils and mouth, wiping at his stinging eyes.

"Y-you-" Grimmjow began, his words abruptly cut short when his eyes cleared of their blurriness and zeroed in on Ichigo.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked with irritancy. When Grimmjow's cheeks brightened in red, and his eyes grew double its size, Ichigo's question was answered. He had never thought he'd see the day when his boyfriend was actually blushing. But nonetheless, it was still a sight to behold. Was Grimmjow blushing because he was naked? All right, he would admit it. It was cute. But he'd be damned if he ever said it out loud.

Grimmjow averted his eyes, his hands lying stiffly by his sides. Ichigo would've laughed, but he thought it unwise so he chose to keep quiet. He found it so ironic how Grimmjow was so timid when it came to seeing his body now when he'd seen it all before. But then again, that injection was still working its wonders, so of course he had the mind of an innocent child, albeit a hard-headed one.

He tousled the boy's teal hair, smiling to himself as he retrieved a towel from the rack, and placed it atop the damp mop that was his hair. "Wipe yourself off, or you'll catch a cold," Ichigo advised, leaving him to his own devices.

When he rose to his feet and unplugged the bath tub, Grimmjow was eerily silent and still. He paused in drying his hair, lowering to his height so they were standing eye to eye. What could he have possibly done wrong now? "Oi, Grimmjow, what's wrong?" he began, shaking the kid's shoulder as gently as he could.

"…vert," he heard Grimmjow utter beneath his breath.

Ichigo strained to hear what that tiny remark was, cocking his ear closer. "Ah?" He raised a questioning, orange eyebrow. "What is it?" Grimmjow's upper lip curled back, his nostrils flaring and his fingers balling up.

"Pervert!" the child shrieked as he reeled his arm back, bringing it back with astounding force.

XXXX

The dressing process had come much easier than what Ichigo would've expected, but hey, he wasn't gonna complain. Right after that mega sonic punch, the damn scoundrel scampered down into Ichigo's vacant room, leaving him to care for his injured jaw and to clean up the remnants of their wrestling water match.

When he had arrived, clad in only a white-fleece towel, he was amazed to find Grimmjow fully clothed and dressed in the borrowed clothes that Yachiru had kindly lent them.

He found it somewhat endearing, bearing witness to Grimmjow wearing bunny-infested clothing articles and attempting to look as if his head was buried in the books, jaw locked firmly in place and cheeks still blaringly crimson.

When Ichigo had finally settled into some underwear and sweat pants, Grimmjow was still attempting the blasé attitude when it suddenly hit him that the kid probably didn't know when to look up. "Grimmjow," he called, the child stiffening at the beckon of his name, "come 'ere." He patted on the spare futon laid upon the floor, Grimmjow's cerulean eyes scrutinizing it with clear distrust.

It was plain to see that Grimmjow wouldn't approach as long as Ichigo was near, so with an exhausted sigh, he stood to his haunches, and opened the shoji doors. "Go ahead and sleep there. I'll be out here." The Shinigami waved behind him, completely unaware of the look of utter terror that began to form like contagious fungus on Grimmjow's youthful face.

Well, at least the night was over, he thought as he stretched and heard bones blissfully popping. He felt his muscles begin to unwind. He could've done without sleeping outside, but just earning a small fraction of silence sufficed for him. Just as he was getting comfortable, he heard the door slide softly to the side, his left eye peeking out. When he noticed Grimmjow standing awkwardly next to the door, it only served to cause him perplexity. "What now, Grimmjow?" he yawned into his fist. Grimmjow's frown grew even deeper.

"Y-you really are stupid, you stupid Strawberry," Grimmjow jeered, pointing an accusing finger between Ichigo's eyes. "It's like you're a dog sleeping out here!" he laughed, although Ichigo could hear the slight tremble in his voice. When he caught a glimpse of the Sixth Espada actually quivering in fear, a fear he had no clue of, he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the guy.

He rubbed at his aching eyes, a huff of annoyance escaping his lips. "All right, move aside," Ichigo ordered, rising to his feet.

The arrancar grew rigid instantly. "H-huh? No way!" Grimmjow rejected with a cross of his arms, blocking the doorway with his undersized frame.

"Then go sleep in there already!" Ichigo brought to mind, gesturing towards the dim, empty room. A room with a comfortable heater instead of the freezing chill outside. When Grimmjow didn't relent, Ichigo just called it quits within the recesses of his mind, ready to resume his initial pose on the hardwood floor when he felt his wrist gently tugged to the side.

He heaved a sigh, knowing that no matter what time of day or night, this kid was not gonna allow him a wink as long as his wish wasn't fulfilled. When he saw that the child was genuinely sorry, but too stubborn to actually say it aloud, he conceded defeat, patting his sleek hair. Eventually, the boy receded and allowed him access into the room, Ichigo's immediate destination the corner of the room. "Go ahead and sleep. I'll stay here." Wouldn't want the kid thinking I'd touch him in his sleep or something.

Still, Grimmjow was reluctant, but in the end, he shut the door and crawled under the blanket, facing the opposite direction. They stayed in the absolute darkness, silent and still for a few instances, Grimmjow's tiny figure seeming to inflate every time he breathed, and Ichigo's back throbbing against the hard wall he leaned against. Well, at least he survived one day. Just… another two to go, he thought bitterly.

Just as he was beginning to feel the tug of drowsiness, he began to hear minimal shifting in the room. At first, he ignored it. It could've simply just been Grimmjow moving around on his futon. But, when he felt a soft nudge on his elbow, it instantly brought him out of his near-induced stupor, and wildly looking around in the dark.

He felt the touch of fabric hit his skin, and although he couldn't make out anything in the darkness, he knew that Grimmjow had dragged his blanket along and was currently trying to settle in beside him. "Grimmjow?" he asked with slight wonder, but heard no response. Just the untamed strands of blue hair leaning against his shoulder were enough indication that Grimmjow did not appreciate sleeping in the dark by himself. He snickered softly. This childish version of his boyfriend had so many surprises up his sleeve.

He snickered again. He just couldn't wait to tease Grimmjow about this little incident once he transformed back. He closed his eyes and imagined it: "Who would've thought Grimm was scared to sleep in the dark?" He'd probably get fucked to death by the itty-bitty remark, but concluded that it'd probably be worth it in the end.

XXXX

Ichigo's hopes were diminished the moment the kid actually fell asleep. He had half-expected he and the brat to actually have a somewhat "older brother-younger brother" moment with Grimmjow's head resting on his arm, and him basking in the idea that finally, finally, Grimmjow was sleeping like an angel.

How wrong he was. Instead of the cheery image he had been anticipating, Grimmjow was anything but. He changed position every twenty seconds, his body lying in a disfigured heap each time he scrambled about. On more than one occasion, Ichigo was slapped with a flailing arm, or kicked in the groin. Fortunately, he was able to doze off after the fiftieth strike to his head; he was sure it had effectively knocked him completely out of consciousness.

Of course, good things always came to an end, and that was exactly what happened to his four-hour sleep. The moment he felt two familiar, sturdy arms wrap around his waist, his eyes snapped apart, and he was met with a very naked, adult Grimmjow nuzzling into his neck. The bunny-decorated pajamas lay surrounding his rousing boyfriend, nearly torn to shreds from his overnight transformation. "Oi, Ichi, ya awake?" his lover asked, pulling him even closer. The Shinigami instantly frowned, knowing where this was gonna lead.

"Get your hands off; I'm going back to sleep," he declined, turning over on his side, when he was abruptly spun, Grimmjow's expression itself personifying death.

"The fuck ya just say?" the Espada growled, rubbing his need against Ichigo's thigh. The Visored instantly colored in the cheeks, palms shooting out to push against his broad chest. Memories of the day before flashed in his mind, and in each segment he remembered, there was none in which Grimmjow ever listened to him. He slapped himself mentally. He hated to admit it, but he might actually miss that brat.

"'Ey," Grimmjow began, tilting Ichigo's head to the side, "what the fuck happened to your jaw?" Immediately, Ichigo froze in place. What? "Who the hell did this to you?" the arrancar hissed, his brows knitting together, and his eyes screaming murder. Ichigo stared with bewilderment.

Did he really just hear Grimmjow say that? That ridiculous question? 'Cause there was no possible way that Grimmjow could've forgotten the night before… could he?

Abruptly, his thoughts were shushed when a flash in his periphery blinded him, his arm shooting up to block the intruding light. "… Butter, butter, butter…" he repeatedly heard with every click that transpired. What the hell? When the flashes stopped, he was able to open his eyes, and behind him, a tatami mat was raised from its place on the floor, and in it was Nemu 'inconspicuously' taking pictures with a mammoth of a camera.

For a while, it was dissonantly quiet with the exception of Nemu's incessant clicking. When he felt that she had taken too many photographs, and that the silence had hung about for far too long, Ichigo chose it best to disturb it. "Nemu…" Ichigo paused in his wording, unsure of what to say, questions bouncing ceaselessly in his boggled mind. Why the hell are you in here? Why are you taking pictures of us? Who are you giving those pictures to? Why are you under a tatami mat? Are there tunnels hidden under Byakuya's house? And aren't you supposed to be saying, "cheese?" In the end, he decided that he could ask whatever one, and came up with "Why the hell are you in here taking pictures of us?"

Nemu blinked at the both of them as if they themselves should know the answer. But when none of them volunteered to explain it, it was plain to see that she had to. "Since Mayuri-sama never had the chance to analyze the Sixth Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez, he has sent me instead to take observations for him." And to prove that that was exactly what she was doing (and not peeking on them), she dug a pen and pad from her chest, scribbling down and mumbling, "The after effects cause testosterone levels to increase."

If only she knew that Grimmjow was like this every morning, but he refrained from saying anything. Might as well have revenge by giving that maniacal scientist false information, Ichigo thought vengefully.

After taking a few more pictures, and scribbling down more outlandish notes ("Anger is more pronounced right after the transformation." "Abstain from placing the experimented in clothes they currently fit in. Damaged clothing articles will only take place." "Protective instincts are amplified in the individuals."), Nemu bid adieu, submerging herself under the tatami mat, thus proving that there were definitely tunnels hidden beneath Byakuya's house.

Of course, Grimmjow was back to his old tricks again once the coast was clear, and that was to try getting into Ichigo's pants. He remained unperturbed by it, though he couldn't help a few blushes here and there at certain intervals, but nonetheless, unperturbed. He figured that they hadn't done it in a while anyway, so he might as well. And just to get a rile out of him, Ichigo told Grimmjow what he had recently learned about him, swimmingly achieving himself three hours filled of penalty sex.


Aaaaaand, you are free to shoot me as you please.