“Kisuke told you what?!” Ichigo wasn’t trying to be quiet anymore. Rage bubbled under his skin.
“He said your mental state is fragile! You’ll break, idiot! So, wear the fucking helmet!” Grimmjow thrust the bike helmet at Ichigo again.
Ichigo closed his eyes briefly and begged silently for some patience. He opened them and met Grimmjow’s burning gaze head-on. “I am. Not. Fragile.”
Grimmjow rolled his eyes. “I know that! But your brain is! Helmet!” He shoved the helmet forward more.
Ichigo frowned and pushed the Helmet back. “It’s not like you to try and wrap me up in protective gear. I’m telling you: I don’t need it!” The light above them in the back room of Urahara’s candy store blinked and flickered in time with his shout. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.
“Shut up and take it, Kurosaki. If you’re gone, who the hell am I gonna fight?” he snapped. He shoved the helmet forward. Ichigo pushed it back. Grimmjow snarled and lunged. Ichigo stopped him with a grunt. They stood there, both pairs of hands gripping the helmet tight as they tried to push it to the other.
At that moment the door to the room slid open. “Grimmjow, have you seen Jinta’s bike helmet…Ah.” Kisuke blinked once, plucked the bike helmet from their grasp, and turned to leave. Ichigo’s rage abruptly changed targets to the true instigator.
“Kisuke.” His voice was dead calm. Kisuke paused, back still turned to them. Ichigo’s lip curled up in a snarl. “Run.”
Ichigo checked his outfit for the tenth time. It was simple, a blue dress shirt with beige slacks and polished shoes; business casual. He pursed his lips as he looked at his hair, dyed black and gelled back for the occasion. He resisted the urge to run a hand through it. He glanced over the tools he’d be bringing; a clipboard and pen. Well. It wasn’t actually a pen. Ichigo’s fingers flexed, urging him to test the pen again but he forced himself not to listen. It had been tested the night before. There was no reason to test it again.
“You’re certain you don’t want help?” a cool voice came from the doorway. Ichigo looked over his shoulder to see Uryuu in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe with a casual air and adjusted his glasses, dark hair pulled out of his face in a short ponytail. Ichigo raised an eyebrow at him.
“What, from Mr. ‘I Prefer to Work Alone’?” He asked teasingly.
Uryuu huffed and pushed off from the door frame. He stopped just behind Ichigo. “I meant from Chad. He told me to ask you,” he replied, unconvincingly.
Ichigo just grinned. “Uh-huh. Sure.” Uryuu’s cheeks flushed slightly. Ichigo rolled his eyes fondly picked up his clipboard and pen. Out of all of their brothers, Uryuu was the one who seemed to have the hardest time showing concern. “I’ll be fine. I’m all set.”
Uryuu eyed his outfit. “Well, you do look the part. But are you sure you can pull it off? You don’t know much about pharmacies.”
“Uryuuuu, I’ll be fine,” Ichigo groaned. “I don’t have to list things off, I’m the one asking questions. That’s what an auditor does. Besides, I consulted Unohana for what to put on the checklist.” Uryuu pursed his lips.
“Alright. Be home in time for dinner. It’s your turn to cook, and I don’t want Orihime trying to fill in again. My stomach can’t take it.”
***
Grimmjow set the phone down after the HR employee hung up. He blinked at it once, twice…then he shook his head. “Nel! Neeeel! NEL! What time is it?” he shouted.
“Ten-thirty! Why?” Nel called back.
“Interview got moved up!” he shouted back as he rushed up the stairs to his bedroom.
“To when?!”
“Eleven.”
“Today?!” Nel’s voice sounded incredulous, with a smidgen of the glee Grimmjow could feel racing through his own veins.
“Yeah. They just called and said they had a cancellation, and they want to keep moving through these interviews quickly.” He whipped off his casual clothes, not really paying any attention to where they landed as he tossed them behind himself. He struggled into the new outfit he’d bought; pink shirt and grey slacks with the matching vest. A quick look in the mirror revealed his disheveled blue hair. He grumbled under his breath and headed to the bathroom for a comb.
Five minutes later, he nearly bounded down the stairs. Nel was in the living room, eyes wide and bright with excitement. “Good luck, Grimmy!” She threw her arms around him in a hug, but not too tightly, so as not to wrinkle his outfit. Grimmjow grinned at her and ruffled her hair.
“Thanks. I’ll see you later. Maybe I’ll get us some of those cupcakes you like on the way back,” he called over his shoulder as he disentangled from the hug and opened the door.
“You’d better!” Nel called after him, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
Grimmjow hummed to himself as he approached his car. He barely registered the taxi pulled up in front of Ichigo’s home; he only barely saw a man with black hair climb inside before the cab peeled away from the curb. He was just about to enter his own car when a voice called out.
“Hey! Where’re’ya going dressed up like that?”
Grimmjow paused to look at the neighbour’s porch where a familiar red-haired boy stood. “Hey Jinta. I’ve got a job interview.”
Jinta blinked and a strange look came over his face. “Oh ya? Where at?” Normally the demanding tone would put Grimmjow on edge. Jinta may be a kid, but even so he should still know manners. But today, Grimmjow felt nothing could dampen his spirits.
“The pharmacy! It got moved up to today,” he replied and he climbed into his car. He fastened his seatbelt, double checked he had his wallet, and pulled into the street. As his home disappeared in the rear-view mirror, Grimmjow missed the look of abject terror on Jinta’s face.
***
Orihime was restocking the medical kits when the front door burst open. She jumped slightly before composing herself as footsteps thudded to the kitchen. “Ichigo? Did you forget some…thing?” she asked as she turned around. Her voice trailed off on the last syllable as she saw it was Jinta, not Ichigo who ran inside. “Jinta? What’s wrong? You look upset.”
“Ichigo!” was the first word the boy gasped out. Immediately, Orihime tensed. She rushed to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to be more level with him.
“What about Ichigo? What happened? He just left, what could have happened?”
Jinta shook his head and Orihime bit her lips to stop more questions and allow him time to answer. “Grimmjow left. I saw him leave after I saw Ichigo off!”
At that, she blinked. “Grimmjow? What does he have to do with…”
“To an interview! He’s going to his interview! He was dressed up all fancy.”
Orihime frowned. “But Jinta,” she said, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze, “his interview isn’t for another few days. Ichigo made sure. Are you certain it’s not another job interview? He applied for a lot of places; it wouldn’t be unusual for them to call him and set up an interview as well.”
Jinta shook his head. “No. He said it was the pharmacy! He said it got moved up to today! We have to go and tell Ichigo.”
Orihime’s blood froze. Her mind whirred and buzzed but nothing seemed to click. Grimmjow’s interview was moved up. Ichigo is going to kill Aizen today. Grimmjow and Ichigo will be in the same building while Ichigo completes the hit. Danger. Danger. Dangerdangerdangerdanger.
“-Hime. Orihime!!” Jinta’s voice cut through the droning buzz of her thoughts and Orihime started slightly. “We have to go! You can drive us, right? We have to stop Ichigo!” The words sank in, and part of Orihime wanted nothing more than to run out and grab Ichigo and Grimmjow both and bring them right back. Instead, she squeezed Jinta’s shoulder and shook her head again.
“No. If we do that, we’ll risk blowing Ichigo’s cover and put him in even more danger,” she answered calmly, but she kept her hand on Jinta’s shoulder so as not to betray the trembling in her fingers. “If we run after him, we could be seen and neither of us would have time for a proper disguise. Or, if in the best case, we catch him before he gets there, where the cab drops him off instead, and he has to call the company, cancel the ‘audit’ and reschedule. It was hard enough to make it seem convincing and official through an email, and you and I both know how Ichigo gets when someone he cares about is in danger. He wouldn’t stop. He’d want to rush in and drag Grimmjow out. Or at least follow him to make sure he gets out. It would be suspicious no matter what.” Orihime reached with her freehand into her pocket.
“But! If we don’t do anything then they’ll both be in danger! What if something goes wrong? What if Grimmjow accidentally blows Ichigo’s cover?” Jinta demanded.
Orihime swallowed. “We’ll just have to trust in Ichigo’s abilities and that he won’t get thrown off.” Her voice wavered and her lip trembled, even as she did her best not to let the tears burning in her eyes pass.
“But! But!!”
Orihime shook her head abruptly. “I…I’ll phone him. Right now.” She pulled out her phone and quickly scrolled to Ichigo’s number.
The silence as the phone rang, waiting for Ichigo to pick up, was deafening on their end. Orihime didn’t let go of Jinta. She gripped his shoulder tighter instead; like he was her lifeline. Finally, finally, the rings stopped. And Orihime’s heart fell as she hear the familiar message on Ichigo’s email. Still, she thought, I can’t just not say anything. I have to try to warn him to at least be careful.
“I-Ichigo, it’s me. It’s Orihime. I…Jinta said Grimmjow was leaving for his interview. At the pharmacy. It got moved up. Be careful and make sure you stay safe. You’ll both be safest if he doesn’t see you at all.” Orihime chewed her lip as she ended the call. Absently, she noticed the taste of copper and realized she’d broken through the skin.
“…’Hime?...” Jinta’s voice was small. Orihime looked down at him. Her eyes widened when she realized her hand was clenched so tightly on his shoulder that her knuckles were white.
With a gasp, she released his shoulder. “Oh, Jinta! I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?” she leaned over his shoulder as she spoke, lifting his shirt sleeve to see the red imprint of her hand. She dropped the shirt sleeve and started tying back her long hair. “Oh, oh, no, Jinta. I am so sorry. Come here, come sit. I’ll get some ice.” Jinta said nothing, but obeyed with a soft sniffle. Orihime firmly pushed the phone call and voice message from her mind as she concentrated on Jinta.
***
Ichigo watched the sidewalk pass by, along with houses and trees and even the occasional person. Nerves bubbled up in his gut, hot and acidic. He tried to swallow the feeling down, but his mouth was dry. It was different this time. There was someone he cared about at stake. He needed this to go well, and it had to be done today. There was no room for failure. Not that there was ever room for failure before…but this time…this time it felt different. So he distracted himself by looking out the window.
With his attention elsewhere, and his phone on silent, it wasn’t a wonder that he missed Orihime’s call. It was only as the cab pulled up to the sidewalk that he saw she’d left him a message. He hesitated briefly. It isn’t like her to call when I’m on a job, he noted.
“Um. Sir? Is…is this the right place? You haven’t…moved…”
Ichigo’s eyes lifted to meet the gaze of the cab driver in the rear-view mirror. “Ah! Yes. Sorry about that. Here, let me pay…” He pocketed his phone and grabbed money from his wallet; paying in change rather than card. He smiled at the driver. “Thanks.” Then he exited the cab.
Another quick look at his phone as the cab went on its way revealed he was cutting it close to the agreed ‘audit’ time. Ichigo’s mouth became a thin line and he sighed. Orihime would have to wait. He slid the phone back into his pocket, straightened his posture, and strode forward for the short walk down the block to the pharmacy.
Grimmjow: If Hueco Mundo’s gone… Where would I meet you?
Ichigo: In my bedroom.
💙🧡
Or… The one time where Grimmjow was afraid of not being able to see Ichigo anymore if not in Hueco Mundo. But then he realized that he could have been sneaking in in Ichigo’s room from the start. Suffice to say that Ichigo hasn’t slept alone since his proposition. (by @kuroosden)
🧡💙
Alternately by @m34gs
(image reads:)
Grimmjow: If Hueco Mundo’s gone… I’m gonna miss our fights.
Based on Prompt 50 from this prompt list by @creativepromptsforwriting
Word Count: 660
Warnings: Major Character Death
It wasn’t raining. Of course it wasn’t. The sun was shining. It was a warm day. In the distance, sounds of life echoed through the busy streets and children’s voices carried on the wind over the high apartment buildings and danced along with the breeze. They didn’t know. They couldn’t see. It was a warm day.
So why was the man in his arms so god-damned cold.
Ichigo wasn’t sure at this point how long he’d been holding Grimmjow, the blue haired arrancar, his once-enemy, once-ally, now friend…now…what? Lover? Had they gotten that far? The point seemed both inconsequential and the only thing that mattered.
The hollow they’d been fighting had long since been defeated and returned to the gates of hell. A soul that was tainted with evil and crime even before death. Ichigo couldn’t help but feel a bitter satisfaction at the fate of the soul even as he held Grimmjow closer, feeling the other man’s shallow breath on his neck. He tried to stand, but his legs weren’t working very well. A distant pain tore his gaze to them and he realized at least one of them had been sliced open. Huh, was all he thought before his gaze returned to Grimmjow.
Grimmjow’s eyes fluttered. His chest barely moved with the short sharp breaths he took. There was blood; a stark contrast with his blue hair and eyes. It covered his torso, his arms, parts of his face. His body was slippery with it. Still, Ichigo held on. He cursed himself inwardly for not having thought ever to ask Unohana about healing techniques. It wasn’t that he didn’t find them useful…he just never thought he’d need to use them on someone.
He never thought he’d be unable to protect the one who mattered to him most.
He squeezed his arms tighter around Grimmjow. “Grimm…Grimmjow?” he whispered, scared to make more noise than a whisper, afraid that if he did the scene in front of him would take a turn for the worse. Denying to himself that there was no other way for it to go. “Grimm? Please. Open your eyes.” His voice wavered so he didn’t dare say more.
But at the sound of his words, the bluest eyes he’d ever seen fluttered open. A hazy gaze fixed on him, strikingly vibrant against the background of a face quickly losing any colour it had and becoming a sickly grey pallor. Pale lips moved, but no sound came out. Ichigo cupped Grimmjow’s cheek with his hand.
“Hey! Hey! You’re going to be ok. I’m gonna…I’m gonna figure it out. I’ll figure something out,” Ichigo babbled, trying to soothe the other. But Grimmjow wasn’t the frantic one. His eyes met Ichigo’s for a moment, and in that feverish dying haze Ichigo could see an understanding and…acceptance. He felt his own amber eyes burn with frustrated tears and opened his mouth to protest, but the longer he stared into those blue eyes, the more his will to fight fate gave out, flickering and dying like a candle left outside in the rain. He shut his mouth and stared into Grimmjow’s calm, steady gaze. They were the eyes of a hunter that knew it’s time was up; not the ones of a cornered animal Ichigo might have expected. This was someone who was at peace. And for a split second, Ichigo envied him that.
He traced his thumb over Grimmjow’s lips, accidentally smearing bright red blood on the bottom one. He let the tears well in his eyes until they overflowed and slid down his face, two burning hot trails of regret and sorrow. Slowly, softly, he brought his lips to Grimmjow’s own. He kissed him gently, sweetly. And Grimmjow kissed him back.
It was slow. It was soft. It was both cold and warm. It was slick and metallic with the taste of blood.
And when Ichigo pulled back and saw Grimmjow’s eyes had closed, he knew.
If you’d told Grimmjow three years ago that he’d be working at a flower shop, he would’ve laughed. He had absolutely no interest in flowers, thought they were silly little things with a pathetically short lifespan. What kind of whimpy man cared about flowers and plants? That was his attitude then.
A short stint in prison and then the impossibility of finding a job with petty theft on his record did wonders to change his outlook.
That’s where Aunt Hallibel proved to be a lifesaver. Her flower shop was small, with a loft over it where he could stay, and she lived in a town where no one really knew him. It was like a fresh start. Grimmjow would have to be a fool to pass up that kind of golden ticket. Now, he was two and a half months into his job, enjoying the stable income, the roof over his head, and even tolerating his cousin Nel’s incessant babbling much better than he used to.
And…there was one more thing, or rather, person, that made his current status look overall…pretty damn good.
Ichigo Kurosaki, the son of a local doctor, and a man Grimmjow couldn’t seem to get out of his head. If he was a young school girl, Grimmjow might’ve called it ‘love at first sight’, but he preferred describing it as an ‘attraction to the only other idiot who seemed to be able to throw a good punch around here’. Not that he voiced how they met too loudly…he could be in significant trouble if word got back to his aunt that he was in a fist fight after only two days of living there.
It had been a rocky start to the friendship, that much was certain, but all it took was a second meeting, some idiots threatening Grimmjow’s life, and a pint of beer for them hit it off really well.
“Grimmy! Ichigo’s here!” Nel’s voice rang through the shop all the way to the back where he was double-checking a few arrangements he’d made. The back room was an absolute mess, and Nel and Hallibel had assured him it always was that way on February fourteenth.
Grimmjow glanced up at the clock. Five minutes until his shift ended. Hallibel had told him not to worry so much over five minutes, but still, he stressed. So he called back “I’ll be there in a few minutes!” He took another look over the arrangements and nodded, satisfied with their appearances. Then he turned to the side where sat a small bouquet.
His mind shot to the memory of asking Ichigo to spend the day with him.
“Wait, the fourteenth?” Ichigo had asked, an adorable, confused frown on his face. “Isn’t that Valentine’s Day?”
“Uh, right. I…forgot,” Grimmjow lied. “Sorry, you probably have a date, or something…” Ichigo blinked and shook his head.
“No…I don’t…I thought you would’ve, though,” he admitted.
“Nope.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“…then, yeah, I’d be happy to hang out!”
Grimmjow’s anxiety was kicking him now for not clarifying what he meant back then. For not biting the bullet and just asking Ichigo on a date. But he couldn’t do anything about that now. He just hoped the other didn’t freak out or hate him after his. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans.
“Hey,” a low, warm, familiar voice greeted. Grimmjow spun around and found himself facing the very man he’d been thinking of.
He blinked. “Uh. Hi.”
Ichigo offered a small smile. “Uh, Nel said I could come back here. She said you’re a stickler for time sheets and staying to the minute and all…” his voice trailed off as his eyes noticed the other arrangements Grimmjow had been working on. He whistled. “Those are pretty. You made them?”
Grimmjow flushed slightly and shrugged. “Yeah. Customers ordered ‘em. They’ll be picking them up soon.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh. So…I got beer upstairs. And thought we could order food. Maybe play some games?”
Ichigo grinned. “Sounds good.”
“Grimm I need the arrangement with the roses,” Nel stated as she flounced cheerily into the backroom.
“Uh, right.” Grimmjow passed her the arrangement. Nel flashed him and Ichigo both a smile.
“Did you like your gift, Ichigo?” she asked with far too innocent an expression. Ichigo blinked at her.
“My…gift?”
Grimmjow shot her a glare that could turn the sun itself to ice. Nel just smiled wider. “Grimmy got you something.” Then she damn near danced out of the room, roses in hand. Grimmjow glared after her. When she was out of sight, he turned to Ichigo.
Grimmjow’s blush returned tenfold. “Uh. Yeah. I figured, uh…It…It’s here…” he mumbled and he reached behind himself and reached for the tulips. His heart leapt into his throat and he found his fingers trembling. He grabbed the bouquet and shoved it into Ichigo’s chest. The other man blinked, eyes wide, and caught the flowers.
There was silence for one beat, two… Ichigo’s cheeks erupted in a brilliant blush. “You got me flowers.”
“Yes.” Grimmjow’s gaze was on the floor.
“They’re red tulips.”
“…yeah.”
“Do you…are you…asking me…” Ichigo’s voice trailed off, but Grimmjow couldn’t help but cling to the way his words lifted at the end, hesitant but hopeful. Ichigo swallowed audibly and continued. “Are you saying…you like…love me?”
Ah. There it was. The words. Grimmjow had been toying with those words in his mind for a while now. And hearing them out loud, coming from Ichigo himself, his heart became a wild beast fighting for freedom from its cage. He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then…this is a Valentine date?”
Grimmjow shifted from foot to foot. “If you want it to be.”
There was another pause. Then,
“Yes,” Ichigo breathed. Grimmjow’s gaze snapped up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
Grimmjow looked into shining amber eyes and a sweet face, cheeks reddened like strawberries. He couldn’t stop the grin that stole onto his face. He gave a joyful shout and threw his arms around Ichigo. Ichigo laughed, his voice like deep rich bells ringing. He returned the hug with one arm, the other still clutching his flowers to his chest.
Vaguely, above the laughter, Grimmjow could hear Nel saying “oh did he finallyask?” but he ignored her. He wouldn’t let any amount of teasing from his cousin ruin this moment.
A/N: Hey all, been a while since I posted for this au...but worry not! There will be more coming! Thank you all so much for liking and sharing previous parts, it really means a lot 💜 Hope you enjoy this part and, providing the universe allows me time, there will be more up soon! Thank you so much for all your patience :)
~m34gs, m3kuroshirt admin
Ichigo fidgeted with his hair for the tenth time in the mirror. “You look fine,” Grimmjow commented with a smirk. “Quit fussing.”
Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the reflection of Grimmjow in the changing room mirror. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one…” his voice trailed off and he flushed a deep red as he remembered what happened only a few moments ago in that same changing room. Ichigo turned away from the mirror, finally feeling secure enough in his appearance. He lowered his voice and hissed, “You’re not the one who got his hair pulled and got covered in hickies.”
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to mind in the moment.”
Ichigo felt his face redden even more, if that was possible, and he could feel his pulse rushing in his temples. “I…I-that…I mean…” he stammered. He covered his face with his hands and took a slow breath. “It…wasn’t bad. And I liked it…I just mean…everyone else might see…” he mumbled finally, voice muffled by his hands.
“…is that a bad thing?” Grimmjow’s tone was teasing. Ichigo slowly lowered his hands, face still burning.
“…no…I’m just…shy about that stuff,” he mumbled, gaze on the floor. When he did glance up, it was to see a fond expression in the other man’s brilliant blue eyes. Grimmjow reached out and rested his hand on Ichigo’s cheek before the young man had a chance to turn away. He stroked his thumb across Ichigo’s lips and licked his own absentmindedly.
“You’re so…” Grimmjow let his voice trail off and let his actions do the talking. He leaned in and kissed Ichigo for what had to be the hundredth time; long and soft and sweet. When he pulled back they were both slightly out of breath. “I’ve wanted to do something like this for so long,” Grimmjow murmured. Ichigo’s heart stuttered in his chest.
“I…” he started, but he couldn’t find the words to convey what he was feeling. Nonetheless, Grimmjow seemed to understand, because he kissed him again, this one a short peck on the lips.
Ichigo blinked at him and Grimmjow chuckled. “Come on. Let’s get going, the others are waiting,” he stated, again with the teasing tone, mirroring Ichigo’s earlier statement. Ichigo gave a soft sigh and shook his head fondly. He finished fixing his clothes, taking maybe a few more minutes than necessary in the hopes that his face would be less red.
He didn’t dare look at any of the employees as they left the changing room and exited the store. He could feel their eyes on him, and he was eternally grateful Grimmjow had been the one to go and pay for the new clothes and not him.
It was a weird sensation, leaving the store with Grimmjow now. He wanted to hold hands. He wanted to keep his distance. He wanted to shout to the world that yes, he, Ichigo, had kissed (among other things) this gorgeous, gorgeous man next to him. He wanted to keep their sudden intimacy secret, like a treasure locked deep away in his heart and guarded by the fierceness of his emotions, so that he could ponder and turn it over and over in his mind, like a dragon treasuring its gold.
With this turmoil of emotions going on inside, Ichigo was working on autopilot. He didn’t realize the two of them had even entered the café, were holding hands, or had seated themselves next to each other with the rest of their friends until the waitress asked what he wanted to order. It was like he was slammed back into his body. Ichigo blinked and glanced around the table. Most eyes were on him and he could feel the blush from earlier returning. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand and glanced to his side without turning his head to see Grimmjow eyeing him with a concerned look. Ichigo tried his best to shoot them all a small smile, to be reassuring. He looked up at the waitress.
“Um, a green tea please,” he requested. She nodded, jotted it down, and walked away. Grimmjow must have given his order already. Ichigo was a bit perplexed. It wasn’t very often that he was so unaware of his surroundings. If the others noticed his clothes were different, they didn’t comment, and the table fell into an awkward silence after the waitress left.
There was a few minutes of quiet, before Orihime, bless her soul, attempted to carry on the conversation. “So, Grimmjow! You’ve got your new clothes…now tell us! Where are you interviewing?” She may have broken the silence awkwardly, but her smile was genuine and kind, and her tone was inviting. Ichigo couldn’t help but think he was glad she seemed to like and approve of Grimmjow. Uryu does too, his mind supplied, and the thought warmed his heart a little more.
“Oh. A few places, honestly. I just applied for everything I could think of. So did Nel,” Grimmjow replied casually. Under the table, his hand still held Ichigo’s, and Ichigo felt a gentle warmth and security as Grimmjow rubbed his thumb absently over the back of his hand.
“Everywhere except the cleaning business,” Nel chimed in with a giggle. “I’m definitely not cut out for that.” There was a round of laughter. The waitress returned with a green tea for Ichigo and a cold drink for Grimmjow. Ichigo thanked her and took both to set them down in front of himself and the other man.
“I think the best one would probably be the pharmacy, though,” Grimmjow continued before he took a sip of his drink. Something in Ichigo’s stomach dropped. Orihime blinked.
“The pharmacy?” she asked, her smile still present, but her eyes now had the slightest glint of worry to them. Ichigo and Uryuu exchanged fleeting glances. If anyone knew about Unohana’s pharmacy having an opening, it would be Orihime. Unohana was constantly trying to recruit the young woman to a permanent position in some of the…less public dealings…of the business. If she was surprised, that was not a good sign…
A quick look around the table told Ichigo that no one else seemed to find Orihime’s expression out of character, and he felt a small relief at that. They had to be careful, after all. Ichigo took a sip of his tea. Maybe Unohana was looking for someone for the store-front, maybe that’s why Orihime wasn’t in-the-know this time around, he thought.
“Yeah,” Grimmjow replied as he set his glass down. “Uh, it’s the new place. That ‘Hueco Mundo’ one?” Ichigo choked on his tea.
Grimmjow started beside him and let go of his hand to whack him roughly on the back a couple times as Ichigo coughed and spluttered.
“Are you alright, Ichigo?” Hallibel asked, her face contorted with concern. Ichigo gave a weak smile as he tried to find his voice.
“Y-yeah,” he managed. He cleared his throat roughly. “S-sorry about that. I, uh, inhaled at the wrong time.” He rubbed the back of his neck, doing his best to act sheepish. Grimmjow’s hand rested on his back now, and the warmth radiating from his palm was damn near intoxicating. But it did nothing to quell the icy dread that settled in Ichigo’s stomach. He turned to Grimmjow with a smile that felt incredibly fake to wear stretched over his face. “Uh, so tell us about the pharmacy? When’s the interview?”
Grimmjow didn’t seem to think the smile was fake, and Ichigo thanked Yoruichi for all the training on how to lie. It really was paying off, even if the lies themselves dug their claws into his heart and made him wince internally as he tried not to think about how upset Grimmjow would be if he found out the truth.
“I got an interview there in about a week. It’s a full-time position and the pay is pretty generous,” Grimmjow replied. Ichigo nodded along, feeling himself relax slightly. A week. He had a week. If he could just carry out the hit in that time, he would be fine. Grimmjow would be safe and none the wiser.
One week. He had most of the intel he needed at this point, anyway.
Warnings: nsft talk, suggestive conversations, crude language
When Grimmjow invited the cute nerd who always sat in the front of his statistics class over to study, he hadn’t meant actually studying. He figured even the nerd would know that much. And yet, when he answered the door to his dorm room, there stood Ichigo, in jeans and a blue t-shirt, book bag slung over his shoulder and a binder cradled in his arms. And there stood Grimmjow, low-rise jeans on, bare foot, no shirt, hair carefully styled to look as casual and messy as possible without actually being tangled. They stared at each other for a moment, Ichigo’s face turning more and more red by the second. Finally, he blurted out “I’m sorry! I must have misread the time!”
As Ichigo started to back up, Grimmjow felt as though his chance to talk to the other boy ever again was slipping away. “Wait!” he blurted out. Ichigo paused, wide eyed. Grimmjow’s tongue stumbled over his words as his brain struggled to keep up with his mouth. “Um…uh, it’s…I’m the one who mixed up the time! You, uh, you’re fine, ok? So, uh, come inside. I’ll…get dressed…” He took a step back as he spoke, hoping he sounded inviting and not just weird. There was a moment’s pause, and Grimmjow could feel his heart thud against his ribcage, could hear the blood rushing through his veins.
“O-ok,” Ichigo said finally, and he hesitantly stepped into the room. Grimmjow silently released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he shut the door. He quickly grabbed a shirt from his closet while Ichigo sat on the bed. It was a single room, tiny with a small, uncomfortable bed, one closet, a desk with a chair across from the bed, and a counter that ran along the back wall. Bathrooms were communal, something that Grimmjow wasn’t particularly fond of, but it wasn’t the worst. At least they were clean.
Once he had a shirt on, Grimmjow joined Ichigo and sat next to him on the shitty mattress. “So…uh…” he tried to start, but it was rather difficult to come up with something to say about classwork when he hadn’t wanted to study at all in the first place. Luckily, Ichigo took over.
“I thought we could start with reviewing last week’s lesson and then move onto the prep for this week,” he suggested. Grimmjow didn’t really have any alternatives, so he nodded.
“Yeah, uh, that sounds good.”
***
“That one’s wrong too. So that’s…thirty push-ups,” Ichigo concluded. Grimmjow groaned, but got down on the floor anyway. “Don’t complain so much. You’re the one who wanted to implement a penalty for the practice questions.”
Grimmjow huffed in annoyance, but he started doing the push-ups anyway. He counted in his head. It wasn’t so much for the sake of motivating himself that he suggested the idea of a penalty to Ichigo. It was more for the sake of his own restlessness. The longer he sat near the orange-haired, brown-eyed beauty, the more he wanted to touch, to brush up against his shoulder, to run his fingers through the other’s hair…and that meant he was fidgety. At least this way, he could try and focus that energy elsewhere.
Sweat slid down his temple as he finished, cheeks heated and arms starting to feel stiff. He had been getting a lot of questions wrong. As he sat back on his knees, Grimmjow looked up to see Ichigo staring at him. When their eyes met, the other young man blinked and looked away abruptly, but Grimmjow could see a rosy colour dusting his cheeks. Interesting.
As he opened his mouth to speak, Grimmjow was interrupted by the door bursting open. “Oi! Jaegerjaquez! Did ya fuck ‘im yet?!” a rather annoying voice called. Grimmjow felt his cheeks turn redder and he glared at the door where a freakishly tall, thin man stood.
“Shut the fuck up Nnoitra,” he snapped. He snuck a glance at Ichigo, who was watching the two of them with wide eyes. Nnoitra just aimed a smug grin at him…until his eyes caught sight of the books in Ichigo’s lap and the open binders. The tall man blinked and squinted at the two of them, smile sliding off his face.
“Wait, are you actually studying?” he asked suddenly. Grimmjow opened his mouth to respond, but Ichigo beat him to it.
“Yeah, what else would we be doing?” He was tense, clearly annoyed. Grimmjow sent a prayer to whichever deity was available that Nnoitra would drop the subject and just leave. Or get struck by a really random strike of lightning. Either one would work.
Apparently, the answer to his prayers was ‘no’, since Nnoitra neither dropped dead nor stopped talking. “…you get dropped as a baby or somethin’? Who the fuck actually ‘studies together’? He totally invited you over to fuck.” Ichigo shut his book in his lap.
“Well, he failed to disclose that part,” he retorted. Nnoitra raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything to make the situation worse, Grimmjow cut him off.
“Get out before I call Szayel to come and get you.”
Nnoitra glared at him. “The fuck you would,” he spat out. Grimmjow raised his eyebrows now, and pulled out his phone. “Fuck! Fine. Fine! I’m going!” The door slammed shut as Nnoitra scrambled away, no doubt eager to avoid being dragged away by his brother.
The silence after the slam of the door was deafening. Grimmjow took a deep breath and turned to face Ichigo. The orange haired student had his eyes on the floor, his things all packed up, face as red as a tomato. “I…is that why you weren’t dressed when you answered the door?” he asked finally. Grimmjow felt his own cheeks heat up.
“Uh. Yeah.” He stared at the wall, suddenly unable to handle looking at the other. “Sorry…’bout the miscommunication…”
“Oh.”
The two of them were silent for a while longer, each lost in his own thoughts. Grimmjow felt uncomfortable, like the air inside the room was thicker, pressing on him from all angles. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, to tell Ichigo that it was ok if he wanted to go, that they would never have to speak again if he didn’t want to, but the other man spoke first.
“Dinner.”
Grimmjow blinked and frowned. He looked up at Ichigo, not quite sure what mental aerobics he’d done to get from their current situation to that word. “Huh?”
Ichigo shifted from foot to foot, clutching at his bag, but amber eyes fixed on Grimmjow’s. “Dinner. That’s your penalty. For not telling me properly, you owe me dinner.” Grimmjow tilted his head.
“…not that I’m disagreeing with you…but…aren’t you like, angry? Don’t you want to never see me again, and all that jazz?”
Ichigo shrugged and fidgeted with the strap of his book bag again. “I mean, I’m more embarrassed that I missed what you were getting at. And…” he glanced at the door, as if expecting Nnoitra or someone else to come waltzing in. When nothing happened, he continued, “…the more I think about it, the more I think it’s kinda cute that you didn’t try to correct me and just met me where I was. But I’m still not exactly thrilled that you weren’t clear on what you wanted to do. So. Dinner. You’re buying. Let’s go.”
Grimmjow stared at him for a moment. Then he grinned. “Alright, I can do that,” he agreed, standing up and grabbing his wallet. “Leave your stuff here.” He gestured to the bed. Ichigo dropped his books and bag on the bed. Then he followed Grimmjow out the door.
Ichigo lives with his found family of assassins, and they're getting some new neighbours.
This will be part of a series :D
“Ichigo!” The voice came to him through the murky shadows of sleep. Ichigo shifted, heavy eyelids fluttering. “Ichigo! WAKE UP!” The scream jolted him fully awake and Ichigo barely had time to dodge whatever was flying toward him. He threw himself to the side and thudded to the floor. A shadow flew over him and his bed and hit the wall with a thunk! A groan came from the other side of the bed. Ichigo rubbed the side he landed on and raised himself up, peering over the bed. There he saw…a Renji, splayed out on the floor, red hair broken loose from its usual ponytail.
“What the hell, Renji? You could have knocked,” Ichigo grumbled. His friend grunted and heaved himself up from the floor, turning to face him.
“I did.” He rubbed his head with a frown. “And then Rukia said the food she made is getting cold. So I decided to use desperate measures.”
Ichigo gave him a deadpan stare. “Knocking didn’t work, so naturally your next step was launching yourself at me?” Renji blinked up at him.
“…yes?”
Ichigo glared at him. Renji shrugged. Ichigo sighed and pushed off from the bed. He turned around and walked to his closet to grab something to wear. As he pulled on his shirt, he glanced over his shoulder. “You gonna give me privacy or…?”
Renji, who had moved himself up to the bed and was laying on it and reading a manga he grabbed off the night table, gave him a cursory glance before returning to his book. “Nope. Your bed is comfy.”
“We have the same kind of mattress. Literally. Bought the same day. What the hell have you done to yours to make it less comfy?!” Ichigo struggled into his tight jeans as he spoke. Renji shrugged.
“Why do you wear such tight pants?” The tone of his voice suggested the question was meant rhetorically and Ichigo glared at him again. Renji smirked.
“Renji! Ichigo! The food is going cold! If you two don’t get down here right now, you’ll miss out!” The words were innocent enough, but the voice that delivered them was laced with barely contained annoyance. The two straightened and exchanged wide eyed glances before rushing to the door and down the stairs.
They were greeted by a stern-faced Rukia, a smiling Orihime munching on pancakes, and a silent Chad putting dishes in the dishwasher. Exchanging greetings with everyone, the two sat down with plates stacked with pancakes and dug in.
“Our new neighbours move in today,” Orihime stated cheerily as she finished the last of her food. She stretched her arms over her head. “So, we have to be on our best behaviour, you know. Kisuke said so.” Ichigo gave a non-committal grunt as he chewed on his food. As if Kisuke knows anything about ‘best behaviour’, he thought.
As if on cue, the door to the basement burst open and Kisuke Urahara struggled up the stairs, carrying a massive box. What was in the box? Ichigo wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He tried to eat faster, but he knew leaving any unfinished food wasn’t an option the way Rukia was watching. With a huff, Kisuke heaved the box and dropped it on the only clear section of the table. “How are my little killer children?” he asked with a grin. Orihime smiled widely.
“Good morning, Kisuke!” she chimed. Chad nodded a greeting before disappearing back upstairs. Ichigo stared at the blond man.
“I thought we were being subtle today?” he questioned. Kisuke waved him off with a smug grin.
“Eh?” Kisuke pretended to peer around with overexaggerated motions. “Why? Are there any new neighbours in here?” Ichigo shot him an annoyed glance but Renji snorted and almost choked on his food, catching the other boy’s attention.
“Renji. If you die laughing at Kisuke making fun of me, I will not be doing CPR to bring you back,” he stated. Renji coughed again, before managing to speak.
“F…Fair,” he gasped out before downing a glass of water. Ichigo turned back to Kisuke.
“Got any jobs today?”
Kisuke shook his head. “Nope. New supplies to test out, though,” he answered brightly as he patted the heavy box. Ichigo stared at the box for a moment, then shared a glance with Rukia, Orihime, and Renji.
“I have cooking lessons with Rukia later!” Orihime declared immediately.
“Going to meet up with Byakuya! We’ll be busy all day,” Renji added.
“I’m practicing hand to hand with Yoruichi today!” Ichigo threw his excuse out hastily. He sent a silent apology to Chad and Uryuu, and from the looks of everyone else’s faces, they were doing the same. Then, as if on a cue, all of them rapidly cleaned up and vacated the kitchen.
When he was finally out of the house, and free of Kisuke, only then did Ichigo allow himself to relax. A gentle autumn breeze tugged his hair and sent a shiver down his spine, so Ichigo turned up the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands in his pocket. He could see the moving truck pulled up to the house next to theirs, and although he was curious, he tried to keep his distance. Unfortunately, Kisuke was too good of friends with Yoruichi for Ichigo to be able to actually lie about practicing with her, so he had accidentally talked himself into a corner and had no choice but to walk past the truck on his way to her place.
That is, until it happened.
As he walked past the truck, a shadow fell over him and a high-pitched voice shouted, “Look out!” Ichigo spun around rapidly and caught the falling object. Which happened to be a man. A man holding a heavy box. Ichigo landed on his ass with an ‘oof!’, a large warm body in his lap, back pressed up against his chest and ear near his mouth.
“Fuck,” was the first thing Ichigo heard, and the voice was low and rough and delicious…No. Bad Ichigo, he thought to himself. At least make sure he’s not hurt, you idiot.
“You ok?” he asked. The man stiffened. Then he scrambled off of Ichigo and turned around, box shoved onto the ground. Ichigo stared up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. The man was tall, with broad shoulders, messy blue hair and piercing blue eyes. A white t-shirt stretched a little too tightly across his chest, and sweat beaded on his forehead, likely from the effort of moving boxes. Ichigo realized he was staring, and the man was staring back at him.
“Grimmy! Are you ok?!” a woman with green hair poked her head out of the truck the man had fallen from. The man glanced at her, and Ichigo realized that must be who she was referring to. The woman’s eyes fell on Ichigo and widened, before she turned back to the blue-haired man. “You shouldn’t get so distracted! Other people will get hurt!” The man’s cheeks reddened.
“’m fine,” he muttered. Then he looked at Ichigo and offered him a hand. “Y’alright?” he asked, clearly embarrassed. Ichigo blinked and took the hand, fighting back a blush.
“Uh, yeah. I’m…I’m good,” he replied. As the man helped him to stand, Ichigo had to virtually beat away the thoughts in his mind. Don’t focus on the biceps…don’t focus on the biceps…he chanted internally. Once he was upright, he swayed a little, the blood rushing anywhere but to his brain. “Sh-shit,” he mumbled as he stumbled a little. Immediately, a strong arm was wrapped around him.
“You sure about that?” a low voice asked. Ichigo closed his eyes. Get it together, Kurosaki, he chastised himself, you’re an assassin. You can’t be going weak in the knees for one hot guy. You see Renji every day. An image of Renji snoring, on his bed, hair tangled and drool pooling on the pillow next to him, rose in his mind and Ichigo found himself able to gain his composure. Ok, maybe Renji isn’t that hot…
“U-uh, yeah,” Ichigo mumbled. He opened his eyes and stepped away from the stranger. He turned around with a reassuring smile to the man and the woman. “Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not the way you were planning on meeting your new neighbour, I’m sure. Uh, I’m Ichigo. Live next door,” Ichigo introduced himself. The green-haired girl smiled.
“I’m Nelliel! You can call me Nel! It’s nice to meet you, Ichigo! I’m glad Grimmy didn’t crush you into dust!” she answered with an enthusiastic wave.
‘Grimmy’ shot Nel a glare. He turned back to Ichigo. “’M Grimmjow. Not whatever weird nickname she” Grimmjow jerked a thumb toward Nel, “decides to give me for the day.” Grimmjow? More like Grimm-WOW. Ichigo internally cringed at his own lame pun and thanked the universe he didn’t say that out loud. He opened his mouth to make an excuse to leave when a voice behind him called out.
“IIICHIGOOOO~,” Kisuke’s voice rang out from the front door of his home. Ichigo tensed. “I see you’re not at Yoruichi’s and she said –”
Eyes wide, Ichigo spun around, desperate not to be roped into another experiment with deadly weapons and poisonous concoctions. “I’m helping the neighbours move in, Kisuke!” he hollered. He heard a quiet ‘huh?’ behind him and shot a pleading look over his shoulder at Grimmjow and Nel. Grimmjow frowned, confused, but Nel seemed to catch on. She smiled brightly and waved to Kisuke.
“Your son is really kind to offer his help!” she called. Ichigo dared a glance at Kisuke to see if the lie worked and caught sight of Kisuke’s knowing look. Unfortunately, the windows of the house gave a clear view of their neighbour’s front yard…so it looked like Ichigo would be under surveillance. Damn. I won’t be able to get away. He turned and held his arms out for a box, but it wasn’t Nel who handed him one. Instead, Grimmjow grabbed the large, heavy box he dropped earlier and rested half of it in Ichigo’s arms.
“It’s too heavy to carry alone,” was the only justification Ichigo got. He blinked, cheeks turning pink as he realized this would mean he’d have to work with Grimmjow…carrying things…watching the other man carry things…and see more of those lovely biceps…yeah, ok, maybe Ichigo was more on board with this than he thought.
