Author's note: This story will most likely be less than 10 chapters; it will contain two sex scenes but it's more drama and sweet than anything else. Might be a bit OOC so yeah X) Also this story has been beta' by Racey and UnholyJustice.
Aish… Too much description... Reviews and feedback would be good…
Paint You In Blue: The artist and the Strawberry
"Oi Ichi what's for dinner?" asked Grimmjow as he stared towards the redhead across from him at the counter.
Sitting on the kitchen stool, Ichigo Kurosaki calmly sipped his mug of coffee. "Pasta," he replied in a monotone voice.
Grimmjow grimaced, "If it's fettuccini then there's no way in hell am I going to eat it."
Ichigo scowled at the man before him. Who cared if they were childhood friends? Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was a dick. He had been the school's notorious bad boy and bully – a tyrant who had the power to make everyone bow down before him. He could shack any women he met without remorse and ridicule every man he disliked. Even beat them to a bloody pulp if he wanted to.
That was until he met Ichigo. He hated Grimmjow the moment he laid eyes on him because, well, he was Grimmjow enough said.
And Grimmjow? He had hated Ichigo because the redhead was always so fucking calm and collected. The look of his scowl that was permanently plastered on his face and the furrowed brows only enhanced the fact that he didn't care about what others thought of him. The two had hit it off, literally. Beating each other up until they were exhausted and battered. Ironically enough, they had become friends straight after. Fate was such a bitch.
From then on, Grimmjow recognized Ichigo as his best-friend and equal. He was often seen teasing and taunting the redhead just so he could get a glimpse of the adorable blush that would be sprawled across his face. Most of the time Ichigo could be seen scolding Grimmjow, yelling at Grimmjow... hitting Grimmjow... But still, reluctantly he could also be seen with a worried expression every time the blunet would come back injured from a fight, or when he skipped meals due to sheer laziness. Ichigo had a soft spot that appeared to be only reserved for the arrogant bastard.
Grimmjow was the same, despite having Ichigo at his beck and call all the time, he was probably the one that was whipped in their friendship. He had stopped screwing around (he still got laid but not as often) and had even stopped terrorizing the other students much to his dismay. Sure he spent much of his time antagonizing the strawberry but when Ichigo gave him the silent treatment after an argument he knew he was fucked. In most of their arguments it was always Ichigo that was right and he always forgave him in the end, most of the time in a chiding manner. But the guilt Grimmjow felt was so gut-wrenching that often it had the blunet spiraling at a loss for days on end. There were times when he felt like he would snap and do something that would cause a shitload of trouble but one cold glare from his childhood friend had him sulking bitterly in a corner.
The two had remained close friends since high school. For some reason of another, Ichigo was seemingly never good at relationships. He had actually never gotten to the point of a serious one – even a casual one was a feat for him but he never knew why this was so. Maybe he just had bad luck? Grimmjow still slept around but his relationships (if you can even call them that) never lasted for more than three days.
As the years drew on, the two were still close despite the contrast in their occupations. It seemed as if they were going to be stuck with each other for a long time whether they liked it or not. Ichigo was currently doing his third year of med school whilst Grimmjow… Grimmjow had become an artist. Ha, who would've thought that the school's badass would make a living from painting? – a good one at that.
"Its spaghetti." Ichigo finished the last of his coffee and placed the mug in the sink. He would wash it later. "Grimm, you really need to get over this fettuccini thing I swear."
The blunet stiffened and his eyes widened. "Gah! And who's the jackass that gave me that documentary about parasites? Fettuccini looks like tapeworms damnit! Tapeworms!"
He took Grimmjow's cup and placed it in the sink as well. "I didn't give it to you. I forgot it here and you watched it."
"Tch, whatever. I'll never eat fettucini ever again."
"Fine," said Ichigo with a huff, trying not to ogle his childhood friend who was currently half naked. Grimmjow's well-defined chest was bare. Smooth muscles gave him wide shoulders and a slim waist which emphasized his rock-hard abs. Splotches of paint decorated tan skin and a smidge of pink was placed near a dusky-caramel nipple and made it oh so noticeable.
Ichigo flushed at the thought. "Grimm! P-put some clothes on."
Grimmjow brushed back his wild untamed teal hair only to have some strands fall over his forehead again. "No point, gonna go back to painting soon." It was one of his strange habits that could actually be deemed logical. What was the point of painting with clothes on when you were most likely going to dirty it?
"How is it going by the way?" asked Ichigo, pulling out a chopping board and knives to cut up some vegetables.
"Meh," he shrugged; his mouth watering as Ichigo's shirt hiked up when he reached for the upper cupboards, looking for canned tomatoes.
"Don't 'meh' me you prick. Your last painting sold for a grand."
"It was a doodle, I can't believe some pretentious prick brought it. It turned out well for me, so its'all good."
Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Those pretentious pricks are the ones that stop you from being out on the streets. What was the painting called?"
"Like I'd ever end up in the streets. You won't let that happen." Grimmjow propped his chin on his arms, eyeing the redhead with a smirk. "The painting was called 'Strawberry wishes'."
"Fuck!" Ichigo growled as he dropped the can he was holding. It fell to the floor and rolled to his foot. He bent down to retrieve the can and hobbled back to the countertop, smashing the can against the surface with a BAM. His right brow twitched. "You... Don't you think you should get a proper housekeeper or a cook now? You obviously can afford it."
Grimmjow just smirked, "I can… but I get you for free. You're basically a housewife, minus the sex. Feel free to rectify that if ya want." Teal eyes dazzled with amusement as he watched the blush thicken and brows knit together in mortified anger.
"Better go paint your picture Bluebell or I'll skin you and make Grimmjow stew." Ichigo growled, the knife in his hand adding to the threat.
Immediately Grimmjow leapt away from the redhead who was fuming with anger. He was just so fun to tease. The blunet burst into fits of loud rumbled laughter. A finger wiped away a merry tear. "I'll see ya soon Strawberry." And with that he disappeared into his studio room. Laughter could still be heard behind closed doors.
"Ass…" muttered angrily Ichigo, but the tender smile on his face told a different story.
Sitting on a tall wooden stool with a paintbrush in hand, Grimmjow began to paint. Despite staring intently at the canvas before him, his mind was undeniably elsewhere. Lips pulled back into a small smirk; falling in love with the redhead who was currently cooking in the kitchen was such a curse and a blessing. When he had fallen in love he had no freaking clue; but he knew he had fallen hard.
He had begun to notice all the small things that a normal person wouldn't normally come across when it came to the strawberry. He noticed how Ichigo would always glower or yell when it came to small children, and yet he found himself constantly surrounded by them. They loved him, and in some ways he loved them back. Grimmjow wouldn't be surprised if Ichigo went into pediatrics once he finished his med school. He had this wall around him that screamed 'fuck off!' but instead of pushing others away, he reluctantly welcomed them with open arms. His friends – Orihime, Sado, Rukia and Renji – were a perfect example of that. He protected them, often disregarding his own safety by doing so. It was one of the things Grimmjow hated and loved about him. Ichigo had such a bleeding heart, even if it was guarded by a shit load of barbed wire.
There were also other tiny quirks about the strawberry that he'd notice – like how he would blush like a virgin when an immodest commercial would come up on TV or how he would fidget nervously when a huge-breasted women came up to him. When walking on the streets he would always look back every now and then as if he was wary of being followed. Grimmjow had always wondered why this was so but he didn't ask until recently. It turned out that when he was a child, he and his mother were mugged. The two were returning home from karate class when a storm suddenly hit the streets, and during the midst of it, his mother was assaulted. The mugger had run off with a few measly bucks but Ichigo had lost his mother that day . He stayed by his mother's corpse in the storm for hours before they were found. Ever since then, he had developed an irrational fear for storms and if it wasn't for that fated day, he wouldn't be carrying the horrid burden of losing a loved one.
Grimmjow could see the fragile boy underneath the scowling man and from then on he had sworn to protect his friend. He took it a bit too far sometimes, especially when it came to Renji Abarai. God, how he hated that tattooed freak. The first time they were introduced to each other Grimmjow had given the idiot such a death glare that he hadn't seen the fool since. Grimmjow grinned triumphantly at his painting as he recalled that day. He had staked his claim then and Renji Abarai had stayed clear.
Fuck his strawberry was so fucking naive, sexy, but naive. He never noticed the advances that Grimmjow gave him or even considered his crude remarks as something serious. The blunet sighed. It wasn't too bad though. Ichigo being oblivious to his advances also meant that he was oblivious to the advances of others as well, so it was a win-lose situation he guessed.
"Grimmjow! Time for dinner," called out Ichigo as he popped his head into the studio room.
Gah! Grimmjow glanced at the clock and realized that hours had passed by. He then glanced at his painting and cringed. He gotten nothing done. How long had he been thinking for?
"Better come eat now or it'll get cold," chided the redhead and he left to return to the living room.
Grimmjow dropped his paintbrush into a cup of water nearby and put on a shirt. He didn't think he would be able to get anything done today. His strawberry was too damn distracting… not that it was a bad thing.
Ichigo placed the bowls of pasta, salad and garlic bread on the coffee table and looked up just in time to see the blunet appear from the corridor with a frown on his face. He noticed that Grimmjow had a tight black tank top on. "Not going to paint anymore?"
"Nah, can't be bothered." He sat cross-legged on the floor and flipped on the TV, changing the channel to the goriest show that was currently on. Without waiting, he grabbed his bowl of food and began eating.
"You know for an artist, you don't have a gentle, sensitive soul at all." Ichigo took his share and sat on the sofa. Grimmjow shifted to lean against Ichigo's legs. Thankfully Ichigo was used to Grimmjow's taste for blood and gore so eating while watching a person get decapitated by a sadistic psycho was no problem at all.
"So? I don't have a beret either. Are you gonna give me shit for that?" He reached for some garlic bread and noticed the mountain of books and paper nearby. "Studying?"
"Of course. I have a shitload of essays due," he snorted, "I had to carry all those books here you know?"
"...And?" he asked, but he knew where this was going.
"If you hired an actual housekeeper I wouldn't have to travel back and forth between my house and yours to cook and clean for you."
The blunet rolled his eyes. "That's your own fault. I've offered for you to move in remember? I offer all the friggin' time."
Ichigo munched on a salad leaf. "Goat face would rather shoot me than see me move out"
Grimmjow shuddered at the memory, "Your dad's a retarded man…"
"He means well."
Grimmjow set his food down and looked up into Ichigo's chocolate eyes. "The rat-bastard kicked me in the gut and then put me in a sleeper hold the minute we met."
Ichigo shrugged. "Your fault for not dodging."
"What? How was I supposed to know I would be assaulted the moment I walk through the doors?"
"I warned you." Ichigo grinned. This particular topic of conversation was repeated many times and it never failed to amuse them both.
"You said, "My dad can get a little bit overzealous" not "My dad is an ape-shit idiot."
Ichigo burst out laughing, setting down his food before he could make a mess of himself. He tangled his fingers into soft teal hair and stroked the tresses. Grimmjow made a happy purring noise and sunk deeper between Ichigos calves. "You're like a cat," he said with a smile.
"Fuck off…" grumbled the blunet but there was no threat behind it. "What makes you think that?"
"Hm... you're fickle, you're not good around people or strangers and you live by your own rules."
"The way you say it makes me sound like I don't mind being called a cat."
"Kitty..." said the redhead affectionately.
Grimmjow's eyes snapped open at the word. "For that insult you pay!" and with that he leapt onto the redhead and straddled him.
Ichigo's hands were held above his head and his legs were held by Grimmjow's own. He watched the expression on Grimmjow's face darken maliciously and predicted what was about to come. "No damnit no! I didn't mean it that way! Grimmjow!" he screamed, thrashing and struggling.
"Too late," sang the blunet and he held the strawberry down with one hand, his other reached Ichigo's belly and he began to tickle the redhead. "Beg for mercy bitch!"
"Never!" he screamed in fits of laughter, his hips buckling and head whipping around wildly.
"You sure?" asked the blunet with a grin as he intensified his touches.
"Ack! Grim!" squealed the redhead (in a manly way) and he laughed for a few moments more before he couldn't take it anymore. "Mercy!" he called out, "Mercy!"
Grimmjow stopped his assault, laughing merrily at the man beneath him. When his hands broke away, the sight of Ichigo's face rendered him breathless.
His face was flushed a dark pink from all the exertion, his eyes were shiny and moist. His vibrant orange hair was more wild than usual from all the movement and now stuck out in sexily odd directions. The shirt he was wearing was now hiked up to his neck because of Grimmjow's torturous fingers and dusky pink nipples could be seen.
Grimmjow took a gulp of air and realized the position he was in. Fuck he hoped he wasn't getting too hard.
"Grimm?" asked Ichigo in a small innocent voice. He tilted his head to the side in an expression of concern. "You okay?"
What should he do? He wanted nothing more than to kiss those pink lips and fuck the man beneath him till both of them couldn't walk. He could feel his heart crashing against his chest. It was the first time, in a very long time, that he was at a loss of what to do.
At that very moment, lightning plummeted from the sky and the horrendous sound of thunder shook the windows so hard, it caused the whole room to vibrate. Ichigo's body reacted on its own, and he instantly lurched forward to grab onto Grimmjow's shirt.
Grimmjow hugged the redhead close to him and silently breathed a sigh of relief. Saved by the storm, thank fuck. He released Ichigo when storm died down but the violent sound of rain hitting the window could still be heard.
"Guess this means you're sleeping over again?" He said with an arrogant smirk.
"Yeah," Ichigo looked away, slight fear still visible in his eyes. He gently shoved the blunet away and got off the sofa. "Put all the bowls and stuff into the kitchen sink? I gotta go call the Old man and tell him I won't be coming home. Everything better be cleaned up when I get back or they'll be hell to pay," said the redhead as he walked down the corridor heading to the guestroom.
"Pft. Hell to pay my ass," grumbled the blunet but he began to clean up anyway. Damn, he was so whipped.