It was the full blaze of summer. Y'know, late July, just after Ichigo's birthday? Yeah. That's when it happened.

Just before the summer trip he'd planned with his husband, the one they've both been excited about since Christmas, this bullshit sprung on him. He'd been so close too, not a week from flying out to this beautiful beach resort in Cancun, but of course, he'd had to go and do something dumb right before that to dumb the whole thing up.

This is what he got for hanging out with Grimmjow despite all common sense, and it was staring him right in the mirror.

Ichigo could vaguely remember going out for a guy's night as usual with Grimmjow, and although he's always known Grimmjow to be a bad influence, he's never woken up naked in some creepy motel, or under a bridge, or in an ice-filled bathtub with his kidneys missing, so he's always figured he could handle anything else. This though, it looked like Grimmjow had finally convinced him to get completely smashed.

He couldn't actually remember, but his head told him so. Ichigo got migraines from time to time, and this pain was just as bad: light and sound sensitivity, fogginess, nausea, and a pounding persistent throb. Ichigo didn't think he'd ever gotten so wasted before, not even on his stag night, and that had been one crazy night.

He couldn't for the life of him remember why he'd let Grimmjow get him so carried away, and that was alarming enough, really, the big blank patch in his memory, and it would honestly be way more alarming if he weren't so groggy and achy everywhere.

'What the fuck did I do last night? Why the hell did I drink so much, I feel like shit... Fucking Grimmjow,' he grumbled mentally, standing naked in front of the mirror.

The worst surprise of all had come after waking up on the couch and rolling himself into the bathroom for a shower, when he undressed. That was when he discovered that he apparently had gotten a tattoo - on his asscheek.

For a split second he'd thought it was a nasty bruise or something, but it registered a moment later that he had a tattoo now. There was a tattoo on his butt. It looked like a gorgeous woman had taken out her lipgloss, applied it, puckered up, and laid a wet one right smack on the side of his ass.

There was a kissmark. On his butt!

For a while he just stared at it blankly in the mirror, the horror of it all not quite setting in. He twisted at the waist, a hand on his lower back as he inspected the mark. It was kind of pink and inflamed, bright with heat as if angry at his poor life decisions.

"What the...? Oh no," he groaned. Shit, he was never gonna' live this one down.

For a moment he didn't know what to do other than point fingers and try to fill his heart with rage for Grimmjow, but it didn't make him feel much better, because there was a sense of helplessness that no matter how much he'd kick Grimmjow's ass over this, it wouldn't undo thething on his buttcheek.

Even so, Ichigo screwed his mouth up in anger and picked up the phone, staring himself down in the mirror with narrowed eyes. Grimmjow answered after ten rings, sleepily, and although Ichigo was steamed, he had the presence of mind to keep his voice down, wanting to keep his crisis private for the moment.

He opened with, "What the everloving fuck is wrong with you?" hissing, his voice echoing harshly in the bathroom.

"You saw it, huh."

"Yes, I fucking saw it," Ichigo growled incredulously, his anger burning out for a second. Honestly, he was so… He didn't even know how to be angry at Grimmjow about this one. He couldn't believe Grimmjow had let this happen. He'd always defended his crazy friend to everyone else. All his other friends thought Grimmjow was a bad influence and that he'd ruin his life or hurt him, and Ichigo had never listened. He'd always thought Grimmjow really did have a good heart, deep… deep in there. But this… He can't believe this.

He really felt hurt over this one. How had Grimmjow done this to him? How could he have thought it would be funny to get him blackout drunk and then stick him with a tacky tattoo?

"This is the worst thing you've ever done," Ichigo said seriously, not having it in him to yell.

"Hey, I tried to stop you!"

"Why do I not believe you."

"You wouldn't listen to me!" Grimmjow protested, at which Ichigo put on a deadpan, wearily sighing and twisting again to look at his new tattoo. He was going to be stuck with this kiss for life. God damnit. "Do you not remember anything?"

"Not really." There was the usual dancing and lights and drinking, but he doesn't remember a thing about leaving or being tattooed.

"Ugh," Grimmjow groaned, "You fucking dumbass."

"Me, a dumbass-" Ichigo spluttered, then huffed and scrubbed at his forehead. "Okay forget it, whatever. Just, what happened."

Hesitantly, which was weird, because Ichigo's never known Grimmjow to get embarrassed, he said, "... So you told me that thing about Abarai getting his done, right? And then we started talking about my back tattoo, and-"

"And what?"

"... I might've said you'd never get a tattoo 'cause you probably couldn't take the pain and would cry like a little bitch halfway through if you got one."

". . ." Ichigo was quiet for a few seconds and Grimmjow was quiet back. "I didn't cry, did I?"

"I also might've mentioned the fact that your whatever-he-is has 'em all over and you haven't got anything-" Ichigo put his head in his hand upon hearing that because he knew himself and he knew where this was going. "- and you didn't like that at all. Said something like, 'I'll show you,' and you got up and fucking left, and I had to follow you."

"Ugggggh," Ichigo groaned, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. Why is he so dumb?

"Yeah."

"Tell me you weren't there the whole time," he muttered, covering his eyes, wondering if Grimmjow had sat there with him while he'd had his pants down on a table in some generic tattoo parlor, getting a needle stabbed into his ass. Honestly, he usually asked himself why he was still friends with Grimmjow, but this time it went the other way. He didn't expect Grimmjow made a habit of watching their friends' get a cheek-tattoo.

"Uh, yeah, I was!" Grimmjow said, like he was an idiot. "Like I was gonna' leave your drunk ass there - you would've tattooed your face off if they'd have let you!"

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Grimmjow repeated, almost sheepishly, falling silent for a second. "At least you didn't cry," he tried to console him at last. "I swear I didn't take any pics either."

Ichigo looked in the mirror again. Still there, still horrible. He didn't even want to know what his husband was going to say when he saw this.

"Shit, I am gonna' get it," Ichigo said flatly, hand on top of his head.

"What, Abarai doesn't know yet?" Grimmjow surmised. "Dude," he sympathized.

"No, he doesn't, I just saw it just now!" Ichigo burst, losing his temper for a second and then groaning again. He hated this.

"You are in so much trouble."

"Tell me about it," Ichigo grumbled, "This is the worst possible time - we are flying out in a week."

"... How are you gonna' tell him?"

"He can't know about this, Grimm, don't tell him."

"Whaaaat?"

"Grimmjow, don't fucking tell him."

Grimmjow was quiet for a second, and then summed up, "Dude, there's no way you can hide it. Just get it over with."

"Never say die," Ichigo replied lowly, hanging up.

He gave a long frustrated groan, staring at himself in the mirror. Fuck, why is he such an idiot?

This is why he'd never gotten hammered all through his teen years and early college days - because he hadn't wanted some dumb shit to happen. It figured the first time he did it, something like this would happen. That's what he got. It was no surprise it was to do with Grimmjow really. Even if it had… mostly been Ichigo's fault actually, it wasn't a surprise it had happened around Grimmjow. All of that shit always does.

Fuck, what is he gonna' do?

Ichigo grimaced at his backside, twisting to look at it, cautiously touching and pinching the skin in curiosity. The tattoo stretched with his flesh and was bright red and hot to the touch. It sort of burned.

… Was it supposed to look like that? Ugh. He probably got this thing done in an alleyway.

Overall, Ichigo felt surprisingly calm and resigned about the whole thing. He's mostly just annoyed, but he wasn't hysterical or panicked or anything. Maybe it was because he knew that it wouldn't change it, there was no taking an eraser to his bum. In any case, panicked or not, he was stuck with the kiss. His main concern was yet to come.

'Renji can't see this,' was his first thought past how dumb he was for getting such a dumb tattoo.

He grimaced, because he knew hiding it was ultimately futile. He knew it was pointless to even try, because he couldn't hide his ass from Renji for the rest of their lives, but he was going to damn well try. Renji could not see this.

Ichigo sighed through his nose and glared at his reflection in a deadpan just thinking about his husband's reaction when he inevitably found out.

'Great,' he thought.

It wouldn't be so bad as all that, really, he knew that, but it was embarrassing and he didn't want to admit to his husband that he'd done something so dumb. Renji would likely react predictably, and Ichigo saw two outcomes.

He was either going to be upset, whether over the tattoo or that Ichigo hid it from him, or he would go completely the other way and be really into it. Ichigo could easily see Renji finding it sexy.

Regardless, the most likely was that he'd laugh and make fun of Ichigo for a year, probably longer, and he'd have every right to.

He didn't want Renji to find out just yet, but he didn't know how he was going to hide it once they went on vacation together. Plus, there's was also the rest of this week to get through, and well, they're married and live together, so it's not like Renji ever really went very long without seeing him naked.

There was also the fact that although Renji could be dumb as a post at times, he was also annoyingly perceptive, and if Ichigo grew suddenly modest around him to hide his tattoo, Renji would be sure to catch on immediately.

He would have to play this really cool.

Ichigo touched his bottom once more and felt a tinge of unease, glancing down at it. He really should just swallow it and ask his husband for help, because he didn't know how to take care of a tattoo and it looked… rashy.

He weighed the options for a moment, health or pride, health or pride, but at last pulled his phone out and decided to research on google.

Never say die. Pride before the fall.