AN: So you, the reader, can view each chapter the way I do, I have included a soundtrack for each segment. Please listen to these songs to get the full story.
Chapter One - Good Ideas
OK Go - Here It Goes Again
Ichigo suavely leaned up against Shinji's hunched shoulders with a mischievous smirk on his countenance. His slender fingers drummed methodically against the the yellowed, torn fabric of the antique couch behind the blonde's head, making him shiver with excitement and anticipation. Shinji's mouth stuck out in a subtle pout. Ichigo was sorely tempted to bite down on those pink, cherubic lips and let his hands wander where they wanted. On the end-table beside them the newest hit by Soul Society, Ichigo's band, softly filtered through the black gauze of speakers. He started to hum along with the melody.
Hey, Sunshine
You shouldn't be on the streets
At this time
Hey, Sunshine
Let me keep you safe and
Warm tonight
"Hey, Sunshine." Ichigo sang softly as he ran his hand down Shinji's quivering thigh. He used his other hand to pull Shinji's silky strands of hair behind his ear and whispered huskily in his subtle Irish brogue. "That song is about you y'know." His knuckles 'accidentally' brushed against the upper part of Shinji's thigh, making him clench his teeth in restraint. Shinji's hazel eyes met Ichigo's brown ones in a lustful gaze. Ichigo went in for the kill again, this time with far more purpose. He suddenly squeezed Shinji's weak, wobbling knees and leaned in with parted lips. Shinji, eager as hell, pressed his mouth to Ichigo's in a tender, passionate kiss. Within seconds, their tongues were dancing confidently against each other's and the two males' hands were roaming all over their bodies - Shinji's hands were pressed hard against Ichigo's abs, underneath his screen-printed tee, while Ichigo's fingers were slowly, almost teasingly, kneading Shinji's firm, round buttocks.
Shinji broke away from the kiss, gasping for air. Ichigo, who was clearly ready for more, nipped at Shinji's earlobe.
"Shit, Ichigo." Shinji breathed. He dug his hands into Ichigo's bright red shock of hair, but kept his face downward and stared at the hardwood floor. "My roommate is in the bathroom. He could come out at any moment."
"He knows." Ichigo slipped a finger between Shinji's cheeks, eliciting a gasp from the other male. "It's not like it would be the first time he's walked in on us." He laughed into Shinji's hair and continued toward his destination slowly.
"Nngh..." Shinji grunted, pressing into Ichigo's red-hot touch. He felt pleasure overrun his brain and all logic slip through his fingers when Ichigo prodded his ring of tight muscles. Ichigo's skilled fingertip started to enter and then-
"G'morning." Enter the comedic roommate - Renji Abarai - a very straight man who surprisingly supported Shinji's sexual choices. "Sorry to interrupt." He flashed a brilliantly white smile. How one could smoke so much and still have a smile that a dentist would envy was beyond Ichigo's comprehension. Renji was a nice guy. In fact, if he wasn't straight as uncooked spaghetti, Ichigo probably would have hit on him mercilessly. Instead, Ichigo and Renji kept it at the level of a comfortable, platonic friendship. In fact, they had become such good friends that they founded the band Soul Society together. Renji had a lot of experiences with guitars and Ichigo was practically lethal on drums. Together, they were unstoppable, but they needed a bass player to complete the group and get the sound they desperately sought.
Of course, that will all be explained later. For now, let's return to the situation at hand.
Ichigo removed his hand from Shinji's pants. While Shinji blushed furiously, Ichigo crossed his legs to casually cover his erection as a courtesy to Renji.
"Hey, Renji." Shinji awkwardly placed a limp pillow over his lap and shot daggers at the smug Ichigo next to him. Sometimes Ichigo had no restraint, but it was usually due to the outfits Shinji wore. Today, Ichigo had walked into the apartment only to see Shinji shirtless in sagging corduroy jeans. He had tackled him right then and there, much to Shinji's disdain. He wasn't one for PDAs unless he was stressed out.
"Shinji, you going to the gig tonight?" Renji queried sincerely, pouring himself a cup of orange juice. He sipped it while keeping his eyes on the still aroused couple.
Shinji peered over at Ichigo before responding. "If I can get away from work." He mouthed the word "sorry."
" 'S alright, Sunshine." Ichigo bit down on the inside of his cheek. "Try, though." It always ended up like this. Ichigo would try to get his boyfriend to come to one of their gigs, but the blonde always had something to do. It made Ichigo very suspicious.
Renji walked into the miniscule living room and sat down across from them in a cushiony chair. "Are we gonna start lookin' tonight?" He bit into a glazed donut.
"Yeah, sure." Ichigo paused. "Wait, at the show?"
"Not during. Afterward."
"Okay." Ichigo exhaled sharply and turned his molten chocolate gaze toward Shinji, who was throwing on the t-shirt he had been planning to wear earlier, before Ichigo assaulted him. It was a shirt that Ichigo had screen-printed for him a good three years ago - when they hung out for the second time.
Stompin' Bird - Rave On
"Is it hard?" Shinji asked, leaning up against the multifaceted machine with curiosity gleaming in his wide eyes. The room looked like something from a different universe. The room itself was a concrete box with two windows, but Ichigo had decorated it to the tee. Flashing, noisy pinball machines were pressed together to fit along the walls. Above them was art that couldn't really be classified as such - plastered roadkill, velvet paintings of unicorns and crying clowns whose eyes would follow you. Half-empty coffee cups covered every surface, except for the vintage, mauve record player which Ichigo seemed to treasure more than his family jewels. Currently it was blasting Rave On by Stompin' Bird.
"Yeah, but after a while you get some muscle." Ichigo demonstrated by jokingly flexing his arms before returning to positioning the shirt. Shinji stared and swallowed hard. Ichigo chuckled at him and pulled down the screen-printing mesh, pressing it hard against the white t-shirt underneath. "So how long have you known?" He lifted it and removed the t-shirt. It had a picture of strawberries on it. Shinji always joked about Ichigo's hair color and had wanted something to constantly remind him of the redhead.
Shinji took the shirt with furrowed eyebrows. "Known what?" He took off his shirt to try on the new clothing, but kind of forgot and just stood there with his long-sleeve only on his thin arms.
"Y'know." Ichigo smiled deviously and suddenly grabbed Shinji's slim waist. His thumbs rubbed in tiny circles as he spoke again. "That you like cock."
"What the fu-" Not wanting to hear anything else beside the blonde's moans, Ichigo's lips silenced Shinji's. Needless to say, they had a heated make-out session before having sex in every room of the house.
Nowadays, Shinji rarely wanted to participate in anything more intimate than the occasional tongue in mouth. Today had been Ichigo's lucky day until Renji decided to show up. If they had gone to the bedroom, Shinji's mood would have disintegrated the moment they sat on the bed. If Ichigo didn't get any action soon, he might have eternal blue balls.
::::
Modest Mouse - Florida
"Look, I know Shinji has been a prude lately, but that doesn't mean you can get wasted before the show." Renji's only vice was smoking, so he looked down on drunk people.
Ichigo had gone through one too many shots. "It's your fault, anyways." He motioned to the bartender for more.
"Way to enforce the Irish stereotype, Ichigo." Renji rolled his eyes and gave up. Yes, Ichigo was half-Irish, half-Japanese and he was fully aware of the way that he acted when drunk: feisty. While he was insulted by the typical portrayal of his kin, he perfectly fit the mold of his redhead family. The only thing Ichigo had inherited from his father was his scowl, which his father rarely showed.
After Ichigo had a few more shots and a beer, he was thoroughly hammered. He had never been this drunk. Usually, he tried to be responsible, but Shinji had pushed him over the edge. He stumbled over to the stage of the tiny bar. This was one of their smaller venues that they had only played at a few times - mainly because their growing popularity required bigger venues, at least back in Japan. However, Renji was more comfortable with a pistol against his forehead than with a crowd five feet away from his shaking legs. It didn't help that their tour in America (which wasn't as nice as everyone said) was so under-publicized that it was practically a secret. In Okinawa, Ichigo had men and women alike screaming his name orgasmically whenever he opened his mouth, but in Oklahoma, nobody batted an eyelash at him. Sure, it was refreshing to not have people stare at his hair, but it was even worse to have people not. He had been thrust into this strange place one month ago, when the tour started.
While Shinji had gone with him, it didn't really feel like he was every there - his work came with him. Shinji, despite his personality, was a genius. He was a journalist - a good one. He wasn't your typical writer with a bad case of procrastination, which Ichigo would have preferred, but a goody-two-shoes writer with a strong sense of guilt.
"So I like alcohol." Ichigo slurred to nobody in particular before wandering over to the stage after drinking another shot. Damn, he was very drunk. He had never performed while this drunk. The only thing he had ever done while this drunk was pass out.
"Heeeeello." Ichigo mumbled into the microphone. Some of the bar's inhabitants turned toward him with questioning looks on their faces and chuckled at his display of intoxication. "We're Soul Society."
People turned back to nursing their drinks and hitting on each other. Ichigo hit his drumsticks together fast. Definitely not the usual pace. Renji sent the drummer and singer a look of warning. They were supposed to start their set with Hey, Sunshine, but it seemed that Ichigo was in the mood for one of their angrier, faster songs. Figured.
Renji strummed the chord slowly to get a taste for the song. Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows and bit down hard while he recalled the lyrics.
Then came the loud crash of drums, the vibration of Renji's low E string before he launched into a hard, catchy riff. The bass drum reverberated throughout the bar each time Ichigo slammed his foot down. Heads began turning as Ichigo sang the first word - his voice tinted with anger and need.
Well, I want what I want
I need what I need
But I need you
To give it to me
Toes tapped. Cymbals crashed. Strings bounced.
Who's home right now?
Nah, I don't give a shit
Bend over, honey
And bite down on your bit
Eyelashes fluttered. Heads bopped. Ichigo growled.
I need a fix
Quick
Quick
Right goddamn now
Azure eyes stared. Mocha eyes closed. Chocolate eyes twitched.
::::
The Arctic Monkeys - A Certain Romance
"Holy shit. You should play drunk more often." Renji gaped at the drummer, who was laying cheek-down on the table. "I've never heard you sound that good. I take back everything I said about beer. It rocks. Beer rocks."
"Fuckin'... ugh..." Ichigo stood up and meandered through the crowd, away from the talkative redhead. People's faces were a complete blur and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. The bathroom door swung open and he stepping into a stall in time to vomit thick stomach acids. The smell of it made him dry heave, even though his stomach was trembling. He flushed it down with both hands, as he couldn't stand and had to use the toilet to stand up. Ichigo forgot what he was doing and stood there, tasting the beer and vomit on his tongue. After shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he approached a sink and splashed icy cold water on his face. It stung a little, but it slightly sobered him up. He rested his hand on his neck and stared at his reflection with disdain. His neck was unblemished, near perfect. Not a hickey in sight. He hated it. He closed his eyes and immediately, he saw Shinji. Goddamn, the man was practically tattooed on the backs of his eyelids. He really wanted to have sex with his boyfriend. Really badly. However, he hated having to take initiative in every encounter of the sexual kind. Could Shinji, just for once, take the lead?
He propped his head up on the back of his hands, his elbows on the stained, porcelain sink. The bathroom was vandalized thoroughly, as any bar bathroom should be. Poorly drawn breasts had been scrawled on the mirror in Sharpie, making Ichigo look like the opposite gender. He hissed in disgust and started to read the walls.
I don't want the world, I just want your half
(And beneath that, so artfully put:)
faggot
Ichigo mourned for the loss of humanity by slamming his fist against the wall, hard enough to draw attention, but not enough to hurt himself.
The door behind him swung open and footsteps entered the room. He looked down, hoping to not make eye contact with whoever needed to take a piss.
"Are you Ichigo?"
His head snapped up and he turned around, only to to run into a brick wall. His eyes travelled upward to meet a solemn face capped with electric blue locks. Underneath the man's bangs, eyes of the same hue gazed.
"Yeah. You need something?"
The man looked offended. Ichigo couldn't blame him.
"I was just going to tell you that was a good show." They stared, glared, stood at an impasse. "My name is Grimmjow." Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow at Ichigo, who all of a sudden looked fragile - like glass about to drop. Brown and blue clashed, danced around each other. Both men tried to read each other, to no avail. A silent battle ensued in the orange, graffiti covered bathroom.
"So you liked it." Ichigo finally answered.
"Yeah, I actually had heard your stuff before." Grimmjow relaxed and leaned against the wall, his arms folded over each other neatly. Ichigo took a moment to take in the appearance of the man. He was tall, probably a few inches taller than Ichigo, and he was a tad more built. Ichigo subtly observed the way Grimmjow's forearms flexed every few moments, as if he was holding himself back. The man wore a thin, white, ribbed tank-top with a flannel over it and gray, skinny jeans. He looked like a lumberjack in that ridiculous green plaid, but still attractive. his Doc Marten clad feet tapped quietly, as if music were playing. Stubble stuck out along his impeccable jaw. Ichigo found himself wondering if Grimmjow had danced to his music, if his body moved smoothly, if his body moved smoother when...
Ichigo gulped quietly and averted his gaze. He felt dirty, which wasn't entirely unsettling. "Live or CD?"
"Only CD." Grimmjow shoved his hands into his pockets and continued to look straight at Ichigo, which made him want to slip out of his skin. "I've never been to Japan. Just Europe, but I prefer America. It's simple here."
Ichigo 'pff'ed. "The opposite for me. I can't figure this place out."
"But your English is amazing." Grimmjow retaliated. "You've really never been here before?"
"Nope, but when I was a kid, I was taught English pretty early. My mom had really bad Japanese, so we mostly avoided it."
"You sing in English pretty good, too." For some reason, Grimmjow's soft compliments were making Ichigo squirm.
"Thanks." Ichigo muttered, locking eyes with the taller man. He found himself unable to look away. The alcohol was still strong in his system, and logic didn't seem like such a good idea. Ichigo's eyes darted from Grimmjow's dilated pupils to his lips for a millisecond, but the blue-haired man caught it. A smirk appeared on those irresistible lips along with a different feel in the stuffy room. Ichigo felt a mixture of arousal and fright pump through his veins.
"Ya feeling alright?" Grimmjow teased, taking a step forward from the wall. Ichigo in turn took a step backward, although his libido was screaming at him to go for it. He had never been the approached - he always did the approaching.
Ichigo kept stepping backward until his back was flat against the side of the stall. His heart was pounding so damn fast that he thought it was going to burst into tiny little pieces from all this excitement. Grimmjow seemed a lot different now - more commanding - and Ichigo felt very overwhelmed by it. It was interesting to see the other side of the situation, although he did feel a little helpless as Grimmjow put his hands next to Ichigo's face, calloused fingers brushing against his cheek. Ichigo stifled a gasp.
"You gonna answer me... Ichigo?" Grimmjow whispered huskily. Ichigo's dick twitched in the slightest, but his face showed it. He hadn't had an assisted release in a very, very long time. No longer nervous (the alcohol was going through more of his body now that his heart was faster than a hummingbird's,) Ichigo placed a hand on Grimmjow's chest with raised eyebrows.
"Shut up." Ichigo growled, offering his lips in a pout, just like Shinji would do when he actually wanted a kiss.
Oh, shit.
Shinji.
Ichigo's face screwed up into a scowl. Fuck it. Fuck Shinji (if he could.)
"Are ya okay with this?" Grimmjow had noticed the frown. Who wouldn't?
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ichigo smirked, extremely pleased that his erection was going to be satisfied tonight with the help of somebody else. "It's nothing."
Grimmjow then roughly pressed his lips against Ichigo. It wasn't like the pussy sparklers that lit up whenever he touched mouths with Shinji - more like dynamite exploding in the back of his head. He loved it, and showed so by pressing his tongue against Grimmjow's closed mouth, which didn't stay closed for very long.
Ichigo's hands wandered, or they tried to. Grimmjow, obviously the dominant type, grabbed Ichigo's wrists and pinned them above his head to keep the redhead squirming under his grasp.
"Let go." Ichigo broke away from the kiss, gasping.
"You don't sound very convincing, eh?" Grimmjow kissed Ichigo again, harder this time. They explored each other's mouth ravenously. Tongues rubbed together while Grimmjow's foot brushed Ichigo's to spread the singer's legs. Ichigo's eyes widened.
"N-No. Not here..." Ichigo grunted.
Grimmjow bit softly on Ichigo's neck, marking him. "Then your place." Ichigo thought of Shinji's reaction and his heart beat faster, if possible. Grimmjow felt Ichigo's knees buckle and spoke again: "How about mine?"
"Sounds great."
Ichigo followed Grimmjow out the door, out the club, and into the unknown.
AN: Hey, all. This is Why No Revival (Revival is easier to say, I suppose.) I decided to put this long-ass author's note at the end because I figured it would be easier to get into the mood of the story without all these things on your mind. I would like to say a few things.
A) Sorry for the tension buildup with not a single hint of lemon. Maybe an orange or a lime. I've written before - just nothing sexual. In fact this is my first time writing a kiss/make-out session. I personally prefer to read stories with a lot of tension and gratifying kisses, rather than come-and-go lemons. So, this is story is mainly M for language and references. I apologize that I will probably not grant a full-on lemon until I've practiced up on writing them. Trust me - this is for your sake!
B) You might be confused about the musical situation. Lemme explain. Ichigo and Renji are in a band called Soul Society. They are fairly popular in Japan, but not in America. They are in tour in America, so they are playing smaller venues. The setting in the first segment is somebody's house. Shinji refers to Renji as his roommate because they are roommates - back in Japan. They are in somebody else's house because not all bands get to stay in fancy hotels. Being someone who actually is in the music scene, I like to think I made the right decision in putting them in someone else's house. Whose? You'll find out.
C) I apologize if the tones don't match up throughout this chapter. My mom kept walking in the room while I was writing the more sexual scenes, so I was kind of having a heart attack while writing this!
D) Yes. Ichigo, Shinji, and Grimmjow all act slightly different: horny!Ichigo, shy!Shinji, and solemn!Grimmjow are what I would describe them as. This is because this is how I view them. Of course, Grimmjow can get wild, Ichigo can get flustered, and Shinji can get pervy, but this is a slow burn and everything will take time. By the by, Ichigo has the accent because his mother taught him English, and she's full on Irish.
E) The list goes on! This story has humor, romance, and drama. I put it as Romance & Humor because it has less drama than humor. Just clarifying.
F) Finally. I am a horribly fickle person. I love encouragement, and I know it's a bad habit to only write when spurred on by others, but I need reviews to function. Even if it's just a "liked it." I will feel inspired, but feel free to get wordy.
Please let me know how you like the story! I'm going to start writing the second chapter in a few hours, but it won't be up for a while (who knows how long?)
Thanks for reading. Really.