Warnings - M for violence/strong language. A little OOC - Ichigo is...more cheerful? And less of a pushover. Grimmjow is a tiny bit more mellowed out.

Disclaimer - I don't own Bleach. Kubo Tite owns both the franchise and the image I'm using for the thumbnail.

Please help me out with some reviews/feedback!

Enjoy!

"Hey handsome, need some help with that?" Grimmjow turned in bewilderment, certain that no one else was in the shop. So the clerk with the flaming orange hair was definitely talking to him, then.

"Help with what, carrying a gallon of milk?" he asked incredulously, easily lifting a jug and placing it into his cart. "You're not retarded or something, are you?"

The clerk scowled, crossing his arms before suddenly leaning in with a mischievous grin. "It's a service we offer, for the old-lady types. Thought I'd ask just in case, you know? Wouldn't want you to strain a muscle or something…" He lightly trailed a finger suggestively up Grimmjow's upper arm, sending a shiver down the taller man's spine.

Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow before beginning a long and pointed sweep up and down the other man's body. The shop clerk was wearing the same uniform he'd seen a dozen or more times on other employees, but damned if he didn't look like a freakin' magazine ad. The plain black polo was modest enough, but the collar was unbuttoned to one or two notches below workplace standards and revealed an enticing span of perfectly tanned skin stretched over what had to be the finest set of collarbones he'd ever seen. Grimmjow had never thought of collarbones as sexy before, but there weren't many other words that did this pair justice.

The rest of the man didn't disappoint, either. Well-defined and muscled arms had crossed themselves again over a toned chest and flat abs, which narrowed into lean hips and long, graceful legs. Even the bright-colored hair only added to the sex appeal, falling in spikes and drawing focus towards those amber-brown eyes that were disarmingly deep, with beautiful irises that Grimmjow thought he could stare into for hours on end…eyes that now flashed with slight annoyance. Oops. How long had he been silently standing there, lewd thoughts plastered all over his face?

"Like what you see? Should I spin around, make sure everything's up to your standards? Or can we move on already?" Ichigo had said playfully before realizing that Grimmjow hadn't heard a word he said. His eyes narrowed slightly in irritation. This guy was hot as all hell with his ridiculous biceps and washboard abs, but Ichigo didn't tolerate stupidity. Maybe just a one-night stand or a fling, then. He certainly wasn't going to walk away from this gorgeous specimen just because he was slow at making conversation.

Grimmjow quickly pulled himself together and replied with something he hoped made sense, given the relatively few words he'd managed to pick up from Ichigo's little speech. "Nah, you're good, unless that spinning involves some kind of pole." He emphasized the point with a wink, relieved to see annoyance replaced with genuine amusement as the clerk let out a snicker.

Encouraged by this development, he pushed forward. "Clearly I'm not an 'old lady type', so maybe you had some other services in mind?" Grimmjow realized a little too late the somewhat degrading insinuation he'd made, and frantically tried to recover. "Only after three proper dates, getting to know each other and all that jazz," he ended rather lamely. He hoped he hadn't blown his chance - he kind of wanted to hear that infectious laughter again.

To Grimmjow's delight, Ichigo was more than happy to oblige. The orange-haired man let out another peal of laughter before turning around and striding towards the cashier's register, pulling out a blank scrap of paper and scribbling down his number. Ichigo reassessed the blunette - he was kind of witty, and that look that had fluttered across his face after the failed one-liner was absolutely endearing.

He stepped forward and shoved the slip into the front pocket of the blunette's jeans before turning around and retreating with an airy wave over his shoulder. "That's my number. And my name. You should call me sometime. My shift's over now, so you'll have to find someone else to help with the milk. Thanks for shopping with us!" With those parting words, Ichigo sauntered towards the front door and exited the store, aware of Grimmjow's eyes following him the whole way out the door as he stepped onto the sidewalk.

Hardly waiting a moment after the clerk had left the store, Grimmjow pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number. He wasn't going to let this 'Kurosaki Ichigo' slip away so easily.

Ichigo hadn't made it ten steps before his cell phone began to ring. He pulled it out and glanced at the unknown number with a puzzled look before he connected the dots, a triumphant smile tugging at his lips. It hadn't even been two minutes!

Usually he'd attribute someone calling so soon to desperation, but he didn't think someone as attractive as the guy he'd just picked up would have much trouble getting laid. Either way, he didn't really mind - wasn't like he had anything else to do at the moment. Flipping open the phone, he answered the call with a flirtatious opener. "Miss me already, handsome?"

"What - who do you think is on the line?" A business-like voice answered Ichigo in clipped tones, instantly deflating his mood like a burst balloon. "There's a job for you. Drop's been made at the corner of 3rd and Weston. Client wants everything wrapped up within the week." The caller hung up without waiting for a response, missing Ichigo's disgruntled reply.

"Fuck!" Ichigo swore and kicked a lamppost, although he was careful to hit it with the sole of his shoe to avoid hurting himself. He snapped the phone in half before tossing the pieces into a nearby trash can. Ichigo sighed. His jobs always popped up at the worst of times.

"…The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone."

Grimmjow frowned, hanging up before the answering machine started recording. He'd already called once before, with the same result. Had Ichigo given him the wrong number? Maybe their conversation hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd thought. Maybe he had actually screwed things up, but the other man wanted to avoid an awkward confrontation.

Should he run out after him, ask for a second chance? He dismissed the last thought instantly, surprised it'd even flashed across his mind. He might have been smitten upon their first meeting, but Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez wasn't some desperate, clingy teenager. He hadn't known the guy for more than ten minutes, he wasn't going to throw away his dignity for a hot date.

Even if the guy had made his heart skip just a little faster than usual.