Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
July 4th, 2011
I know you're probably looking at the date and time and wondering what the fuck is going on, so I'll explain. It's about two weeks since the last time I actually wrote in this thing and I've gotta say, although it feels strange, I've gotten used to writing down my thoughts.
That dumbass anger management class is finito and it feels good not to worry about attending. Plus, I'm rid of that headache, Luppi. I'm rambling, I hope you know that. I'm just sitting here trying to figure out how I'm going to explain what's happened since the last time we chatted.
Alright, so yeah. The class is over, the group leader, Kenpachi sending us off with hopes to never see our "ugly mugs" again. My classmates/group-mates - whatever - were just as happy to be done with that place as I was. But that's just me judging from the looks on their faces. Anyway, Kenpachi also made us keep our journals. Told us it'd be good to make it a habit of writing down our feelings. Funny enough, I agree. There's nothing like sharing my deep, dark shit with something that won't respond or judge. Liberating, in a sense.
The last time I wrote in here, I was flipping out about my situation with Ichigo. Looking back at my words, it's pretty damned funny. It was hard to believe that I was actually attracted to a guy. For at least a week after I returned to class, just the thought of Ichigo made my hands all clammy and shit. I avoided him like he was on fire and I know that was fucked up, but like I said: I was flipping out. I didn't know how to handle my attraction.
Ichigo gave me these looks of anger, hope, and then defeat during that week, and all of them made me feel like crap. I hated that I'd put those looks there, but at the time, I hadn't known how to fix shit. Then one day last week, my old man - of all people - approached me, asking me why I was so jumpy and on edge. I'd been snippy with him and my mom and I guess they'd wanted some type of explanation for the odd behavior.
Shit, I didn't know what the hell to tell him. "Hey, Dad, I kissed a guy...and I liked it. What do I do now?" No fucking way. But of course, like parents have a tendency to do, he'd seen right through my flustered denials of anything being wrong.
"You look like you just swallowed a bug," my dad said.
I laughed, trying to disguise the deer caught in headlights expression I was wearing. No good. My dad was all over it and drumming his fingernails against the kitchen table top, his blue eyes impatient. I coughed behind my hand. I could think of absolutely nothing to tell my father. I was seated at the table across from him, nursing a mug of hot chocolate - with the marshmallows! Can't have hot chocolate without those.
From my vantage point, my dad's glasses were slipping down his straight nose and his brown hair was curling over his high brow. He always made me nervous when he wore that serious face and if that wasn't enough to have me shitting bricks, fate decided to add the cherry on top. My mom walked into the kitchen with a loud yawn, bright blue hair tied back in a bun that rested against the nape of her neck.
"Have you asked him already, Jake?" she casually asked my dad.
"I'm waiting for him to grow a pair and just tell me why he's been acting more of an ass than usual lately," my dad drawled.
I swallowed and lowered my eyes to the table. What was I supposed to do? I was too flustered, too out of sorts to explain myself coherently, so what I ended up doing was blurting it out like word vomit.
"I kissed a guy in my anger management class."
Silence. A very long, very pregnant silence. I still had my eyes glued to the kitchen table until my mom cleared her throat. When I looked up, she was wearing a mysterious grin that made my insides curl up into a tight little knot. I took a chance and glanced at my dad and wanted to wither up and disappear. His face was slack with shock, eyebrows almost reaching the vaulted ceiling. I swallowed again. Well, that hadn't worked out the way I'd planned it to, but the cat was surely out of the bag now. Only option was to wait it out.
Finally, my old man cleared his throat as well and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Son, would you like to elaborate?"
"Take your time, Sweety," my mom chimed in gently.
I took a deep breath and dove right in. "I met him at class. Uh, at first, we didn't get along; we actually had a fight the first day."
My dad frowned his disapproval, but remained silent. I cleared my throat nervously and continued. It was hard with my parents staring me down like detectives in an interrogation room, however, but I managed.
"We, uh, after that, we met again outside of class by that store over where Gin lives. He looked like he was leaving work or something, so I went up to him. I just wanted to invite him to a little friendly sparring, you know?"
"Grimmjow, honey. You know any sparring with you is never 'friendly'," my mother interjected.
I grimaced as I gave a short nod. She was right. I didn't know the meaning of a "friendly spar"; never had and probably never will. I'd wanted to fight Ichigo again and that had been that. Forget letting it blow off steam. That had merely been an excuse to get my hands on that orange-haired brat again. I'd just wanted to settle the score without any interruption. Luckily, Ichigo had eaten it up like his favorite meal.
"Yeah, well, he agreed to meeting elsewhere for a match at a later date. We went our separate ways and that was that. I mean, we saw each other in class and everything, but with the promise of fighting each other again, we didn't have to worry about erupting in front of everyone. I did kind of notice he was looking at me a little too much, but I brushed it off. Maybe he was just trying to gather information. I know I was. Anyway, I think it was a Saturday. Dad, you, uh, you remember? I was leaving early in the morning and you were out washing your car?"
My dad nodded slowly as if he were afraid to answer. He looked like a man sitting strapped into an electric chair.
"I was going to meet him. I was pissed it was so early, but figured the extra anger could help me kick his ass once and for all. So, I get there and he's waiting. I don't even speak, I just get right into fighting. Only thing is, he caught me off guard because he was faster and a lot better than what I'd anticipated. I underestimated him," I said, absently noting the slightly wistful tone of my voice.
I think my mom picked up on it, though, because she smiled and went around the table to stand beside my father. She placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded her head for me to continue while my dad just sat frozen like an ice cube, blue eyes slicing into me like a box cutter.
Again, I cleared my throat and went on. "So, we fought and...well, I lost. Pretty badly, too. I think Ichigo has some-"
"Ichigo?" my dad blurted. "What kind of name is Ichigo for a boy?"
My mother squeezed his shoulder, her wide smile never faltering. "Jake, stop. Let Grimmjow speak. And be nice. But Grimm, Honey, is that really his name or just a nickname?"
"That's his name," I answered. "It's the reason we got into a fight the first day of class; I didn't believe that was his name, either."
My dad started to say something, but my mom squeezed his shoulder again, making him press his lips together.
"So, um, yeah. Where was I again?"
"Ichigo must have had something. You lost the fight," my mom offered.
"Oh yeah. Well, I was saying, I think Ichigo had some type of martial arts training or something because he kicked my ass pretty easily, and that's rare."
"So just get to the part where you kissed him already," my father snapped, pouting.
"Jake," my mom admonished.
"What? I want to know. How the hell did you go from getting your ass kicked to kissing the guy that did the kicking?"
I wanted to laugh at the incredulous look on my father's face, but knew it would only dig my grave for me, so instead, I finished the tale.
"Well, he kicked me in the chest and that put me down. When I was down...he, uh...he...sort of...straddled me and held me down."
My dad's eyebrows went to the roof this time, but so did my mom's. Her dark blue eyes were wide and round as she stared at me.
I rushed on. "While he was there, we just gave each other these angry looks and then...Ichigo, he, uh. See, he... Well, his eyes went all soft and shit and next thing I know, he's kissing me. In the beginning, all I could do was sit there. I was surprised, you know? But...then it started to feel kind of nice, so I kissed him back."
The only sounds in the kitchen were the sounds of my anxious breathing and the hum of the refrigerator. I was terrified. What would my parents think of me? What would my dad do? What would they say? WHAT WOULD MY DAD DO? I gave him a surreptitious glance and was floored. He was smiling. It was creepy.
"So, this Ichigo boy started it, then?" he asked, breaking the tense silence.
I nodded. "Yeah, but I continued it. I didn't have to do that!"
Little did I know, I was only adding fuel to the fire. I should have just kept my trap shut and let my dad think this whole thing was Ichigo's fault. But I couldn't. I'd played a big part in that kiss too and I couldn't tarnish Ichigo's image. I didn't want my dad thinking he was some man-kissing pervert or something.
Suddenly, my mom laughed. "Grimmjow, you're so cute!"
"What?" I frowned, aghast.
"This wasn't just an experiment. You really like this Ichigo fellow, huh?"
I paused. Did I? I'd been avoiding Ichigo like the plague for the past week because I had no idea what to say to him. I didn't know how to approach him; I didn't even know how I was supposed to look at him again. But...maybe it was because I really did like him? I scowled, confused. I didn't know what to think.
"I don't know," I grumbled, picking at invisible lint on the sleeve of my t-shirt.
I absolutely refused to look at my dad. I had no idea what kind of expression I would find there, and I wasn't really willing to discover it. However, his voice made me look up at him.
"So, does this mean you're gay?"
I froze, eyes helplessly glued to the man that sired me. That was my line, wasn't it? I had no idea what it meant. All I knew was that I'd kissed Ichigo back when he'd kissed me, and I'd liked it. I liked it so much, I wanted to do it again. I didn't mind the fact that he was a guy too much, actually. Plus, it was a bonus that Ichigo loved fighting just as much as I did. You see what I mean by being completely confused? At times I liked Ichigo, but others I was left wondering what I was supposed to do. What it all meant.
"Am I gay?" I parroted.
My father arched a brow. "You're deaf now?" he asked sarcastically.
I sighed and shook my head in resignation. Hell, I'd come this far, I might as well go all the way. "I don't think I'm gay, but...I might be bisexual? Or maybe, I just like Ichigo? Damn, Dad, I don't know!"
My mother left my father's side and came over to stand next to me. Her eyes were gentle when I raised my head to give her my attention. She ran her small hand through my untamed hair and I felt like a kid again. I wanted to lean into the touch and cuddle up against her, absorbing her warmth and love.
"Honey, it's OK. You do what you want. Whatever it is, we're here for you."
I frowned and peered at my dad from the corner of my eye. Did he feel the same way? Or was it just my mom extending the arms of support? I couldn't get any answers from his expression because it was curiously blank. That was depressing. I turned my focus back to my mom and rustled up a smile.
"Thanks, Mom," I whispered.
She nodded and hugged me and I climbed from my seat, prepared to leave the kitchen and think on what I should do about the Ichigo situation.
I abruptly stopped, my father's authoritative voice arresting me. I didn't turn around because I didn't want to see the look of anger or disapproval that was sure to be there.
"Look at me, boy!" he barked.
Shit. When my dad got like that, it was like a zombie apocalypse: scary as hell. I slowly pivoted in place and met my father's stern glare.
"Stop being a coward," he growled. "If you like the boy, go and tell him. You're MY son and MY son doesn't run and hide from his feelings."
I let out a deep sigh of relief, a smirk blossoming across my face. I was glad my dad hadn't snapped and kicked me out, or worse yet, disowned me. I nodded and gave him a sharp salute.
That day turned everything around for me.
I'll give you the rest blow by blow, let you feel what I was feeling when things finally came to a head between me and Ichigo.
Fast forward a couple more days and I find my self consumed with thoughts of an orange-haired spitfire. I want to see him. I want to tell him that I DO like him. That I should have told him that the day I came back to class. I mean, I could. I have his number. It would be so easy just to hit his name and press the connect button. However, when I start to do it, I chicken out. Why? Because I begin envisioning how Ichigo looked at me during class after I started avoiding him and it makes my stomach hurt. Guilt swallows me whole and regret pitches me in the dark. I doubt myself and it's annoying. I've never doubted myself when it really mattered. Not to mention, my father's parting words haunt me like a specter. I AM his son and I have a responsibility to uphold his reputation and image. In other words: I can't let my old man down.
Get it together.
So, I bite the bullet and call Ichigo up. The phone rings and rings and rings until it's finally answered by voice mail. The sound of Ichigo's voice makes my gut flip out, butterflies all over the place, but it isn't the man himself, so I hang up before the beep sounds. What to do now? I feel like an immense failure. I should have left him a message at least, so he would know to call me back. But then again, wouldn't he do that when he sees the missed call? It makes sense, so I leave it at that.
Hours crawl by with me babysitting my cell, pacing past it every few minutes, just to see if the orange-haired man has called me back. He hasn't. At first, I'm worried. So, I do the logical thing and give him a call back. The phone rings and rings again, voice mail picking it up and Ichigo's voice telling me to leave a message after the tone.
No. I don't want to leave a fucking message.
I toss my phone on the bed and glare at it, like that'll make Ichigo call me back. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't. Now, I'm not only frustrated, but I'm edging towards pissed. Then, I calm down. Maybe he's working? It's a Friday afternoon, so maybe he just CAN'T answer the phone. I take a seat on my bed and grab my phone, bringing up the text message application. I type up a quick note and send it off. There. No one I know can't answer a text while at work.
I sit and wait. And wait. And wait some more. A whole fucking hour disappears and I STILL HAVEN'T HEARD FROM HIM. Yes, by now, I'm sure you can tell I'm HIGHLY upset. I pick up my phone and call again, this time leaving an angry message when he doesn't answer YET AGAIN.
"Hey! Answer your phone already!"
I hang up and toss the phone down beside me, agitated and running my hand through my hair. What the hell? Why didn't Ichigo just pick up the phone? If he was working, he could easily send a text. Wasn't that hard. Suddenly, my phone screams the lyrics to "Shake It" and flustered, I grab it, disappointed when I see it's only a text. Probably Gin reminding me that we have to work tonight. I open it up and almost drop my phone when I see Ichigo's name under the sender.
The smile disappears from my face and morphs into a snarl. What the hell is this? I'm so pissed, my hands start shaking as I try to type up my reply.
Hey! I'm tryin' 2 talk 2 u! At least give me that.
There. I'm not used to being logical, and it hurts my brain. I sit and wait, hoping Ichigo will just be cool and give me a call so we can discuss things.
No. I receive another text message.
Excuse me? When I waite talk 2 me for how long? Screw u. And leave me alone, I'm working.
Really now? I hadn't thought of that. I kind of conveniently forgot that I had left Ichigo hanging while I'd been avoiding him and trying to figure out my own emotions. So, not only did I have some discussion time ahead of me, I also had some apologizing to do. Great. Just another thing I'm not good at. I start to type up another message, then thought about it. If I tell Ichigo I want to see him, he'll dodge me. I know where he works. I hate to look like a stalker, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Time to throw on the war paint, so to speak.
I slip into a pair of white and gray basketball shorts and a white tee, then almost fall down the stairs, rushing to my car. My dad is in the kitchen as I pass through to get to the garage and when our eyes meet, he smirks.
"Go get 'im, Son. And when you do, bring him here so I can take a look at him."
"No way," I immediately respond. "You'll scare him to death. Ya feel like cleaning piss from the floor?"
"Well, then I ain't bringing him here."
"Yes, you are!" my mom's voice comes in from the pantry.
I hadn't even known she was in there. She comes out wearing a yellow apron and there's flour covering it and her hands.
"If you don't bring him, I won't feed you anymore. You'll have to survive on take-out for the rest of your life."
"Mom!" I gasp. That's below the belt. Downright dirty. Evil woman. "That's not fair! You KNOW I can't cook!"
"Well, I believe there's some negotiating that needs to be done, then."
My dad cackled from his spot at the kitchen table and it just made me feel like I was being double-teamed.
"You guys suck," I grumble and head for the door. Before I step out, I turn back with a wide grin. "If I bring him, you'll make me an apple pie? With whipped cream and ice cream on the side?"
My mom grinned back and gave me a thumbs up. "Sure will!"
I leave, my spirits high and determination in the sky.
I remember the building I'd seen Ichigo leaving before because it's across the street from a store that I like to frequent whenever I'm visiting Gin. So I park on the street and wait. I look up at the tall building through my car window and sigh. It's hot as hell, but thankfully, I have air conditioning. I'm starting to regret coming here so hastily. One look at the clock tells me I have at least another two hours before Ichigo will emerge from the brick building and it depresses me. What can I do? I don't want to leave on the off chance that he'd come out early, but I also don't want to sit there waiting like a true stalker. I twiddled my thumbs, feeling like an idiot as I glance back and forth between the steering wheel and the building. Twenty minutes go by and I can't take it anymore.
I shut off the car and lock it up before stalking across the street to the building's entrance. The heat hits me like an armored truck, but it only lasts for a few seconds before I go inside and the air cools me back down. I walk up to the front desk, a cheery orange-haired girl staring me down. Her face goes red and she flusters around, smoothing her hair and smiling nervously.
"Hi, can I help you find something?"
I nod. "Where's Kurosaki?"
"Uh, Ichigo-san? He-he works on the fifteenth floor, in the advertising department. DO you have an appointment to see him?"
"No, I just need to see him. It's kind of important. Sort of a family emergency," I lie smoothly.
What can I say? I'm good at things like that.
"Oh, OK. Well, I'll just write you a pass and you can go right up."
"Thanks, uh, Inoue?"
"Aha, yeah. And it's no problem."
I wait, grin stretching my mouth from ear to ear while Inoue quickly scratches out a pass for me. She hands me the little square badge and smiles some more.
"I hope everything is OK," she says.
I nod shortly and clip the badge to the collar of my shirt. "Yeah, it'll be fine. Thanks again."
With that I march right to the elevators and hit the call button. While I'm waiting, a huge brunet comes up behind me and waits as well. His wavy hair covers his left eye and he's quite frankly, rather intimidating. He's bigger than me in all aspects: taller and heftier. That's saying something since I consider myself bigger than most Japanese guys anyway.
The elevator doors open and we troop inside. He positions himself against the wall and waits for me to press the button to what floor I'm going to. So, I do. I tap the number fifteen and he grins secretly, which disturbs me into speaking.
"Why're you smiling like that?"
But he doesn't speak. He just grins some more and continues watching me. This makes me uncomfortable. I'm already dealing with attraction from one man; I don't really need it from someone else. With that in mind, I turn away from the guy and try my best to ignore him. The elevator hitches a few times like it's about to stop, which makes me incredibly nervous. See, I don't really like elevators. I'm afraid I might get stuck in one one day and the thought sends chills rocketing through my body. Please don't stop right now. Not with me in the same car as a creepy giant. Please.
Someone hears my prayers because the elevator doesn't get stuck. We stop on the fifteenth floor and the silent giant lets me step out first before following behind me. This is so wrong. Why the fuck is this guy trailing me? Is he security? Is he making sure I go where my badge says I'm headed or what? Since he hasn't said anything to me so far, I keep ignoring him and go to the room indicated on the badge. Room 5181.
The door is open, so I stroll through it. Oh my God, it's horrendous. The walls are a bright yellow and the carpet is red. Like fresh blood red. It's disconcerting. There is a nice distraction on the left side of the room, however. Floor to ceiling windows stretch across the entire side, showcasing a nice view of the city. As I'm distracted, taking in the surroundings, I hear an indignant cry come from near the windows. Attention grabbed, I look towards the noise and my eyes settle on Ichigo. He's standing over a wide, translucent table holding a few sheets of paper in his hands. His sparkling brown eyes are wide and his face is turning red. I smile. Finally caught him.
I saunter over and his back stiffens as I get closer. This is looking promising because Ichigo has nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He can't avoid me with me standing right in front of him.
"Yo," I greet.
Ichigo's mouth turns down into a frown, eyebrows pulled into a deep scowl. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I need ta talk ta you."
"Yeah, here. It ain't like you'd talk to me anywhere else. You wouldn't even answer your phone."
"I don't wanna talk to you, that's why. Go away," he snapped and turned his back to me.
I grab his shoulder and spin him around. His hands automatically come up like he's about to hit me, but before he can, I yank his chest to mine and place my lips over his. That shuts him up good. He freezes, but I don't pay that any mind. This is the only way I can think of to get him to listen to me. To get him to realize that I like him too. I absently hear rustling and come to discover that Ichigo has dropped the papers he'd been holding. I really hope he's not going to push me away, or worse, hit me.
His hands go to my shoulders and grip tightly as his mouth carefully opens and draws my bottom lip into it. I'm stunned, but bigger than that, happy. This must mean he's not mad at me, right? So, I follow his lead and get into it, sliding my tongue into his mouth. I remember this taste. It's the same as the day Ichigo kissed me the first time. His tongue touches mine, tentative. I put my arms around his waist and pull him closer, trying to project with my actions that it's OK to do what he wants. I think he gets it because he sighs and the kiss gets infinitely hotter. Ichigo's arms go around my neck and one hand plows through my hair. His tongue is aggressive. So is mine. We're kissing like there isn't a room full of spectators and it feels awesome.
But then, just as I feel things stirring in my shorts, Ichigo pulls back and glares at me. "You took all this time just to realize that you DO like me?"
I shrug, sheepish. What should I say? I'd never been attracted to a guy before, so his first kiss had thrown me off. I tell him as much. Ichigo laughs at my response and shakes his head as if he can't believe this is happening. I want to do the same, but I'm too focused on those syrupy brown eyes dancing with happiness. I'm distracted by those full lips turned up into a crooked grin and those dimples winking at me.
"Excuse me, but this isn't the place for that. Ichigo, can you ask your guest to please leave?"
A woman's sultry voice comes from the doorway and Ichigo jumps away from me like I'm made of fire. I turn and see a beautiful woman with violet hair and golden eyes staring at us, a smile tugging at her lips. She's freaking gorgeous. But, so is the man standing behind me, blushing like a virgin.
"Sorry, Yoruichi-san," Ichigo mutters.
He's obviously embarrassed and now I feel bad about getting him in trouble at work. Not that much, though. If I hadn't come here looking for the orange-haired man, he would have probably kept ignoring me and avoiding me. I grin through the awkward moment and lean over, kissing Ichigo's cheek.
"Call me later," I say quietly, so only he can hear me.
His eyes are shining when he looks up at me and nods. "OK," he whispers.
His cheeks are a charming scarlet and it makes my grin spread as I turn to leave. I can't wait to see him again. When I pass the woman in the doorway, she smirks and follows me out. Now what? I'm leaving, aren't I? Why's she following me like she thinks I'll steal something? I turn and face her, about to ask her just that, when she holds up a hand, cutting me off before I can even begin.
"Thank you," she says.
Well, this baffles me into further silence. I have to say, I didn't expect that.
"Ichigo has been a pain in the ass with his anger issues and attitude. I'm hoping things will change now that he has someone in his life to mellow him out."
I laugh. Loudly. Almost hysterically. Is that what she thinks?
"Lady, I don't know how much you know, but I don't think anyone can mellow that guy out. Besides, I have the same issues, ya know? We met in anger management."
This makes her widen her eyes, clearly shocked. "I-is that so?"
"Yup. So, good luck with that. Nice meetin' you."
I turn away and head to the elevators again, still inwardly chuckling. When I reach the metal doors, I change my mind and go for the stairs instead. I remember how the elevator had been acting as if it wanted to stop and I really didn't want to tempt fate. I trotted down the stairs, looking forward to the time when Ichigo left work.
OK, I'll leave off there. You know who wants to write the rest.
July 4th, 2011
It has been a while since we last had a chat, but if you read Grimm's entry, then you're pretty much caught up to what's going on. I'll just backtrack a bit and let you know how I was feeling while the asshole was taking his time "reflecting."
Last time we spoke, I was feeling pretty humiliated because Grimmjow had been avoiding me. He'd skipped class and when he did return, he didn't seem to want to have anything to do with me. Once class finished, I thought he would at least call to let me know something, but he didn't. Which, of course, left me pissed and even more depressed. If he didn't want me, didn't like me, wasn't interested – whatever – he should have just said so. Well, as you read, I was a little upset by the time he did decide to contact me. I'd resigned myself to never speaking to the blue-haired idiot ever again. Screw him. That's how I'd felt.
Until he'd gone and shown up at my damned job. (Shakes head)
I still can't believe he did that. But then again, yeah I can. When I think about it, that seems exactly like something he would do. Especially if he couldn't get his way. Here let me just go right back into it.
After Grimmjow got me scolded by my boss, Yoruichi-san, I went back to my table and sat down hard, still reeling from shock. I couldn't believe things had gone the way they had. The worst part of it all: Chado had been there to witness my caving. Before Grimmjow came to my job, I'd told Chado about how the guy was avoiding me and wouldn't even give me an answer to any of my questions. Chado knew how pissed I was. He'd been there when I said I would never talk to Grimmjow again for dissing me that way. So, it made sense that he'd be there to see me go back on my word. I felt so foolish. I couldn't even look in his direction, I was so embarrassed. Then a quiet chuckle caught me off guard, forcing me to do just what I said I couldn't.
Chado sat back in his rolling chair, giving me a smile that actually showed his teeth. It shocked the hell out of me, but didn't keep me from saying anything.
Chado shook his head, his eyes dancing with laughter. "So that's him, huh? I think I guessed when I saw him on the elevator a few minutes ago."
That made my heart leap into my mouth. Had Grimmjow said something? But why did that even matter? After barging into my space and kissing me in front of God and all my co-workers, the blue-haired man saying something to my best friend didn't hold much weight.
"Oh," was all I could conjure up.
I swear I think I stopped breathing and my heart stopped beating for a minute. Chado? What was that?
Chado just gave me that mysterious grin of his before lowering his head over his work, silently declaring the conversation over. I also gleaned from his actions that he approved of Grimmjow. If he didn't, he certainly wouldn't look so happy and call the guy...hot.
After that, work crawled by in slow motion, it seemed. I was anxious to leave and talk to Grimmjow again. Maybe do some more of that toe-curling kissing. I danced in my seat all day, so much that Yoruichi came and ordered me to sit still and stop fidgeting like a toddler.
Finally, work ended and I nearly run to my car, this causing Chado to laugh at my back as he left in a more sedate manner. I didn't care. I had a date with a very sexy blue-haired miscreant, who – in his own way – had finally admitted to liking me the way I like him. I climb in my piece of shit car, still anxious as hell, when a knock comes from my passenger window. It's Chado. I roll the window down, trying to disguise the fact that I'm in a hurry. I think Chado sees right through it because he's still wearing that grin.
"You left this upstairs, Ichigo," he says calmly, deep voice so amused.
I look at what he's holding up and almost swallow my tongue. How the hell did I forget my cell phone? The one way for Grimmjow to contact me had been left, abandoned at my desk. I shake my head and reach over for it. I need to calm down. Chado hands it off and straightens with a small wave before going to his car and sliding inside. Now, I'm ready to go. I crank the engine and sail out of the parking lot, wondering what time Grimmjow will decide to call me. Then I hear frantic beeping behind me. I turn in my seat to see who's leaning on their horn and why, and notice bright blue hair in my rear-view mirror.
I pull over and Grimmjow pulls behind me, then hops out of his car, his stride fluid and sexy. His hands are in his pockets as he makes his way over and his hair just enthralls me. I can't stop staring. Finally, he's in front of me, leaning over my window.
"Wanna roll this down?" he asks, one severe brow arched.
Blushing, I roll the window down. I can't believe I got so carried away with watching him that I forgot to do it. When I do, he smiles and leans inside, catching me off guard with a brief kiss.
"I tried callin' you when you were in the parking lot. Where you off to in such a rush?" he asks as he pulls away.
I blush some more, angry with myself at my own reaction. Why am I being such a girl about this? I shrug, helplessly watching his lips as he smirks.
"I don't know," I lie, knowing full well why I was in such a hurry.
"Liar," he says.
I guess he knows too, and that's enough to make me look away, embarrassed.
"It's OK, though, right?" he continues.
When I look up at him, his kaleidoscopic eyes are somewhat uncertain. I wonder why, but I don't realize I've done this out loud until Grimmjow looks at me funny.
"Well, I know I pissed you off and made you wait a long time. Just wonderin' if it's alright that I like you."
I can't believe my ears. What the hell is he saying? Doesn't he realize I've been sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear him say just that? And now he's doubting it? Idiot!
I laugh and reach out the window, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in for another kiss. I like the way he tastes and I like seeing his eyes close before he kisses me back.
"Stop being stupid," I chide when I pull back.
His grin is back and it's blinding. I want more. I want more time with him, more kissing, more touching. I want to learn everything about him.
"Come to my house," he says, breaking my train of thought.
I look at him again, startled. His house? Really?
"That's OK?" I ask.
"Now, who's being stupid?"
He didn't even wait for me to respond before straightening his back and moving towards his car. I guess that left me no choice but to follow him. I wait for him to pull away from the curb before doing the same and falling in behind his car. We drive for a while and I realize we're headed to Tokyo. I didn't know Grimmjow lives there. Now, I'm excited, anxious to see the blue-haired man in his own habitat. We drive for a little bit more, passing the shopping and business districts, and finally winding through the civilian areas. This is one of the nicer areas, though. The houses here are huge and obviously expensive, which makes me wonder just what kind of work Grimmjow does.
We pull into a three-car garage and I shut the engine to my car, awe lighting up my face at the sight of an immaculate BMW already parked in one of the spaces. Grimmjow hops out of his car and waits for me to do the same before leading me to a door that obviously went into the house. I'm nervous as hell now. I don't know what to expect. Does Grimmjow live alone here? Where does he get the money to afford living in a house like this? We step inside the door and a few feet ahead, there's another door. I close the first one and go to catch up with the other man, when I hear him talking. I freeze, scared stupid. Who's he talking to? Why am I so scared? I'm a grown ass man, dammit!
I take a deep breath and scold myself some more before going forward through the other door. I'm immediately paralyzed by the sight of two older people, who mixed together, look just like the man standing next to a long, granite kitchen counter. The older man has curly brown hair and the same chaotic blue eyes as Grimmjow. His nose is just as straight, eyebrows just as severe, but his look is softened by the presence of a pair of black, wire-framed glasses. He looks like a college professor.
The older woman is beautiful and seems to be the picture of maternal instinct. The way she's looking at me makes me want to ask her for a cookie and some milk. Her hair is the same shade as Grimmjow's, but her eyes are dark-blue and wide. Gentle. Her smile is warm and inviting, not mischievous and sneaky like her son's.
It's obvious to me that these two are Grimmjow's parents. When that fact settles in my brain, I feel myself beginning to panic a bit. Why didn't Grimmjow tell me he wanted me to meet his family. Why didn't he let me prepare? I twist my fingers together and play with my car keys, completely harassed. I don't know what the hell to do.
"Hi! Ichigo, I presume?" the woman asks.
Her voice is smoky, like a blues singer's. Like she should be wearing a bright red sequined dress instead of a yellow apron and powder blue house dress. Her hair is tied back in a neat bun and she's wiping her hands with a white dish towel.
She knows my name.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, yes. Yes, ma'am."
Grimmjow and the older man seated at the table both guffaw and it's eerily identical. I send Grimmjow a scathing glare because I can't do the same to his father. My look shuts him up because it clearly tells him I plan to kick his ass later for doing this to me.
"Ichigo, if you plan to stick around, you'd better lose that habit," the woman says sternly, and for one brief second, I catch a brief glimpse of Grimmjow's lust for fighting.
It's scary. I thought it would be the other way around.
"O-OK," I answer.
"So!" the man at the table starts and I feel sweat collecting under my armpits. This is so wrong. "I understand that you like my son."
Grimmjow and my face went pale. I truly feel like hiding in a corner with a blanket, sucking my thumb and crying for my mommy.
"Dad!" Grimmjow yelps. "What the hell!"
"Jake, honey, don't scare the boy. He just got here," Grimmjow's mom adds.
Jake just sits back in his seat and gives me that same grin Grimmjow gives me when he's being particularly bad.
"I just wanna hear it from him. So, that's correct, right?"
I swallow very harshly before nodding. "Yes," I answer and I'm proud that my voice doesn't waver.
"I see. And what are your intentions? Do you only want sex?"
I can't believe this is happening. I feel like a teenager again. Like I'm meeting a girl's father before taking her to a dance. It's horrible for my nerves and I can't stop fucking sweating. I look to Grimmjow for some assistance, but he's wearing the same swallowed-a-bug expression I am. His blue eyes are wide and his mouth has fallen open. I think I look exactly the same right now.
Thankfully, Grimmjow's mother comes to the rescue.
"Jake! Didn't we agree to behave?"
"I don't remember that part, Liz."
I can't stop staring at Jake. His eyes are like magnets, somehow even more powerful than his son's. But that was kind of expected since the older man had years to perfect his technique. Still...I'm frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Just as I go to answer, Grimmjow is beside me, hand over my mouth and eyes wild.
"Don't answer that, Ichigo!"
So, now I really don't know what to do. I've got two pairs of luminous blue eyes drilling into me, waiting for my reaction and frankly, I want to walk through a wall and disappear from sight like a ghost. Can I do that? Can I just turn and leave and try to forget this horrendously mortifying situation?
"By all means, do answer the question, Ichigo," Jake says, his lips curving into a sinister grin.
I'm breathing too fast and so is Grimmjow. But Grimmjow is scowling at his father as well, those blue brows forming a sharp V in the middle of his forehead.
"Dad," Grimmjow starts seriously, drawing all attention to himself. There is reigning silence. "You SUCK!" he shouts and abruptly pulls me from the kitchen.
Wait. Did I just really witness Grimmjow throwing a tantrum? His face is pulled into a tight, angry knot and he's stomping through a huge hall, dragging me with him. I can hear Jake's laughter echoing from the kitchen and I suddenly feel like the punchline of a joke. I think Jake set us both up.
"Hey, Grimmjow," I try, but the blue-haired man is ignoring me.
I'm still being dragged through the large hallway, until it ends and we wind up at the bottom of an equally large staircase. It immediately reminds me of those historical movies where the female lead comes walking dramatically slow down them wearing a huge gown, with plenty of petticoats and ruffles underneath. Why my head goes in that direction? No clue. I'm yanked up the stairs as well. In fact, we don't slow down until we reach the end of the hallway that was up the stairs. There's a bedroom and it's fucking colossal. I've never seen that much space all in one place in my life. Is this for real?
Grimmjow slams the door behind us and turns to look at me, face red and nostrils flared. I almost feel bad for him, when I realize that we're actually in the same boat.
"So, your dad's a bit nuts, huh?"
Like I could talk? But Grimmjow didn't need to know that just yet. As a matter of fact, that would be my revenge: take the blue-haired idiot to meet MY old man. What fun that would be.
"I can't believe he did that," Grimmjow mutters, running a hand through that amazing hair.
Finally, I see the humor in the situation and laugh...hard. Grimmjow is looking at me like I've lost my mind. I can't help it, though. Jake got both of us good and got away with it because we were too shaken up to think logically. I shake my head and go over to Grimmjow, also suddenly realizing that we're alone in his bedroom apparently. There are posters on one wall that scream his name (not literally), and the color scheme of gray and blue has his personality written all over it. I like it. Grimmjow grabs my attention by moving closer as well, his grin big and scary almost. I like that too. He puts his hands on my hips and next thing I know, he's kissing me. Rather fervently, if I might say so.
I think I know where this is going and I'm so looking forward to it. His lips are warm and demanding and I just want to get inside him. I want to learn this man from the roots of his soft blue hair to the tips of his feet. I hold myself in place by gripping the back of his head and toying with his hair. He grunts and his hips lurch forward. I know what he wants, but since this is my first male experience, I'm not quite sure how to go about things. The sudden knowledge of this puts me in a strange place and makes me back out of the bone-melting kiss.
"What's wrong?" Grimmjow asks, searching my face.
"I wanna do this, but I don't know how," I admit, face burning from embarrassment.
Grimmjow laughs and holds me to his chest. "Me either. Don't worry 'bout it, though. We can go slow, yeah?"
Relieved, I nod and inhale his unique scent. He feels so good against me like this and I want it to last a really long time, if not forever.
Which brings us back to the present. Me and Grimm have been "taking things slow", dating and stuff and it's nice. The other night we watched a gay porno and aside from making me blush furiously and him fall into a fit of laughter, it did give us a lot if useful information. I do remember clearly Grimmjow looking over at me in the middle of the flick and giving me a very stern glare.
"I'm not bein' the girl, I hope you know that."
"What makes you think I want to be the girl?"
"Because for one: you're named after a fruit and two: you're cute enough to be a girl, so why not?"
I puff up indignantly and cross my arms. "Fuck you!"
Grimmjow laughs and scoots closer to me on his bed. "No, see that's what you WON'T be doing. We're discussing what you WILL do."
"Oh yeah?" I ask, mischievous. I know what I'm about to say is going to make those eyebrows hit the roof. "Well, I think I'm gonna fuck my boyfriend where the sun don't shine."
Grimmjow becomes a blue statue. He stares at me, his face stony and serious. I can't even hold it in. I crack up laughing. And that's when he kisses me.
"Ichigo," he starts, pulling away. "I like you. I like you a lot, but you will NOT be fucking me. Thank you very much."
"Why can't we compromise?"
"Why can't you just listen?"
I'm still chuckling at the look on his face. He's obviously scared. Me? I'm a bit more adventurous and actually don't mind "being the girl" the first time around, but it doesn't mean I don't want to see what it's like to be on the giving end of things.
"I think you're chicken," I say softly, briefly kissing him again. "Bwuak."
Grimmjow shakes his head and puts me in a headlock, which I don't mind so much because he smells really good. Then, he surprises me.
"I ain't scared. Matter fact, just ta prove it, I'll let you do me after I do you. How's that?"
Honestly, I like the man so much, I'm willing to do that for him. We're so dysfunctional, it keeps everything new and exciting, even when we're arguing, so his words and attitude don't bother me at all. I smile and lean into his touch.
"I'm fine with that."
This seems like a nice start to a really cool relationship.
Til next time, then.