Hi-lo! Let's get the icky-nasties out of the way, shall we? No, I do not own Bleach. Yes, this is my story, so please don't steal it. No, you are not allowed to send me hate mail if you don't like my story - just stop reading it if that's the case. Advice and constructive criticism is always welcome!

Just one more note before you get to the story...I have been thinking about this story for a very long time. It took a while to get the ideas on paper, even longer to get it into a proper story, and longer still to actually get it up online. That said, the first chapter is influenced by The Petulant Prodigy's lovely story Tear It Up. I was having some trouble with the beginning (I never write in order), but I did not steal her story! Just a precaution you know. Virtual cookies to everybody who can pick out all the influenced parts! There happens to be one very blatant element that I put in as a tribute :)

"Sorry I'm late, Icchan," called Shinji as he trotted up to where Ichigo was laid out on a bench, one arm thrown over his eyes as a shield against the sun. "Class ran a little long."

"S'all good," Ichigo said, sitting up. "What do you want for dinner? We have to go to the convenience store if we want anything other than tea and rice."

"Aw, why don't we go out for dinner tonight? The new guy at the gyuudon place is hot." Shinji fanned himself exaggeratedly and Ichigo snorted. He slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing when Shinji's expression darkened.

"Don't look now, but Renji and his cronies are headed this way. Maybe they won't notice us?" He added hopefully.

Ichigo sighed. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing much...just made him look like a total idiot in front of a couple of cute photography students," Shinji muttered, looking shiftily off to the side.

Ichigo threw his friend an irritated look and the blonde put up his hands defensively. "I know them, okay? I couldn't let those sweet girls be fooled by a brute like him! He was being a total sleazebag!"

"Yo, freaks of nature," called an angry voice from behind them. "That stunt you pulled yesterday was the last straw. You're gonna get what's comin' to ya."

Shinji ignored Ichigo's warning look, and turned around in full-on battle mode. "Don't blame the fact that you can't get a girlfriend on me. Those tattoos of yours aren't going to impress many of the types of girls you seem to go for." The bulky redheaded man stomping up to them was boasting an impressive tick in his forehead, emphasized by the tribal tattoos that stretched across his forehead. Matching tattoos ran down his neck onto his shoulders and disappeared under his tanktop across his back and chest.

"Excuse me?"

Ichigo gripped Shinji's arm, warning him to stop. His mouth had gotten them into trouble many times before, most notably with Renji, an arrogant and hotheaded upperclassman from the Technical School.

"What, are you deaf and stupid? I think that's half the reason why you got dumped last time." He cocked his hip, expression pitying.

"Shinji, shut up," Ichigo hissed. Renji's face was turning a peculiar shade of purple and a vein bulged in is temple. Two of his friends stood behind him, looking fairly angry as well, but Shinji didn't stop.

"Although, I'm sure you could get some of the more extreme Harajuku Girls to consider you. Or, maybe even guys? I've heard the gay community is very accepting."

"Why you effeminate little prick!" Renji shouted, lunging forward. Ichigo yanked Shinji's arm and took off running.

"One of these days, I'm gonna cut out your damn tongue," he snapped. "That would solve all my problems"

"Now, now," Shinji said with a giggle, as he was wont to do when nervous. "You know you'd miss it."

Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and swore. "They're catching up. Take this and keep going," he said, snatching off his bag and tossing it to Shinji. He turned to face Renji, Ganju and Ikkaku, and aimed a kick at Renji's side. Caught off-guard by the sudden attack, Renji stumbled and tripped up Ganju, the largest and ugliest of the three. Ikkaku, a bald-headed guy with a serious complex, kept after Shinji. The moment he touched the blonde, Shinji started screaming in an effort to catch someone's attention, his voice rising even further when Ikkaku grabbed a fistful of his hair and hauled him back to the others, giving him a solid blow to the gut to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Ichigo was having a difficult time with Renji and Ganju. He wasn't accustomed to fighting, and he was outnumbered by guys a good deal larger than himself, especially when Ikkaku joined back in. Ichigo's foot connected solidly with Ganju's groin, effectively dropping the man, but before he could recover his footing he was grabbed from behind by Ikkaku. Ichigo snarled and tried to rip himself away, but Renji's fist connected with the side of his face, snapping his head to the side. Ichigo tasted blood. Great, he thought, spitting it onto Ikkaku's shoe. Cut the inside of my cheek.

"Oi, oi," said a deep, slightly challenging voice. "What d'you think you're doing? Three on one's a little cowardly, ain't it?"

"The b***ds had it coming!" Renji spat.

"What did they do, insult your manhood? Whatever they did, they've more than paid for it by now, don't you think?"

Renji sneered at the man over Ichigo's shoulder, but backed down. To Ichigo and Shinji, he said, "Watch yourself next time, or you won't get off so easy." He turned to go, dragging Ganju to his feet as Ikkaku roughly pushed Ichigo away.

As he helped Shinji to his feet, Ichigo looked up at their saviour and froze. He was absolutely gorgeous. Tall, gelled teal hair, a muscular frame...He looked totally relaxed, resting a huge wrench on his shoulder, the top of his navy Auto Mechanics jumpsuit folded down around his waist to reveal a grease-stained muscle shirt.

"Thanks," Ichigo said, looking back down at Shinji, who had finally regained his breath. Straightening back up, he winced, a hiss of pain escaping him.

"Hey," said the blue-haired man. "Follow me, and I'll get you guys patched up. My garage his right there." He inclined his head and started to walk away, not looking back to see whether or not they were following. Ichigo glanced and Shinji, who shrugged, and went after him.

"I'm Jeagerjacques Grimmjow. So what did you do to Abarai?" the upperclassman called over his shoulder as they reached the door to the garage.

Shinji giggled breathlessly. "Hirako Shinji. We kind of have a history of crossing him and witnessing him getting dumped. Then, I kind of intentionally ruined his chances at getting a cute girlfriend yesterday. But, you can't blame me-the guy's ugly as sin and has a bad personality to match."

The stranger snorted, waving them into the garage through a side door. Ichigo looked over at the cars they were passing, irritated all over again. "If you'd just keep your stupid mouth shut, I wouldn't get dragged into your messes," he muttered darkly.

"I dunno-you looked pretty used to it. I saw you let him go on and fight by yourself, even though you don't look like you've done all that much fighting. I didn't catch your name?"

When Ichigo didn't respond, Shinji spoke up for him. "The joykill is Tokidoki Ichigo. He'll get over it. So, which one of these cars is yours, Jeagerjacques-kun?" He was in full-on flirt mode now, his tone light and totally interested, even though Ichigo knew for a fact Shinji could care less about cars. The blonde kept glancing at him, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling knowingly at him. Obviously, he'd picked up on the attraction he felt.

"That one. And, you can just call me Grimmjow-I hate my last name." He pushed open a door just beyond the last of the line of cars to reveal what looked like a break room. A large couch was pushed up against one wall, a gigantic bean-bag chair next to it. On the left wall was a counter with a sink and a two-burner stove underneath a row of cupboards. A small fridge was tucked into the corner near a small round table with three chairs crowded around it.

Grimmjow indicated for his guests to sit, and Shinji dropped his bags onto the couch. As the upperclassman rummaged around in the cupboards, Shinji knelt down to inspect Ichigo's wounds. He lifted Ichigo's shirt, eyeing two rather large bruises on his stomach and ribcage.

"He hit your face. Is it okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. Cut the inside of my cheek, but no real damage. What about your stomach?"

"Fine." Shinji noticed a slight discoloration on Ichigo's left hip and unbuttoned his jeans to tug the waistband down. At that moment, Grimmjow turned around, wincing slightly as he caught sight of the nasty bruise forming on the redhead's hip. He walked past them to the door as Ichigo began to examine Shinji's stomach in return.

"Hey!" the blue-haired man called into the garage. "Where's the first-aid kit?"

"What for?" called another voice.

A third voice called out incredulously, "What else do you use a first-aid kit for, stupid? I got it." A moment later, a guy with long blonde hair came in carrying a white plastic box. "Who's this?"

"Shinji and Ichigo. That's Ilfort. He'll get you fixed up better than I can, so I'll leave it to him." Grimmjow walked back to the fridge, pulling out a couple of ice packs.

"Patch up Ichigo first," Shinji said, sitting on the couch and opening up a bulky black case and inspecting its contents with a serious expression.

Wincing slightly as Ilfort pressed a medicine plaster against his abused skin and holding an ice pack to his cheek, Ichigo asked, "Is the camera okay? It took quite a tumble."

"Yes. The camera is safe, all is right with the world, and the children will sleep well tonight," Shinji said, sighing with relief as he sank back onto the couch, betraying a little of how anxious he was about it while he handn't allowed himself to look.

"Are you photography students?" Grimmjow asked, sitting next to Shinji on the couch. Ichigo's eyes wandered over to him, and he had to force himself to look away when Ilfort asked to see his wrist, which looked red and swollen.

"I am," said Shinji, now checking Ichigo's bag, pulling out a number of sketchbooks in different sizes. "Ichigo's in the Ceramics Department, mainly. Oh, good-your sketchbooks made it through just fine."

Ichigo examined his freshly bandaged laft hand. "Those things could go through hell and back and make it out just fine. Honestly, I don't know why you bothered." He sucked his teeth. "It wasn't my drawing hand, but working with clay's out for a few days. And there's a show coming up, too."

Shinji giggled. "So that's what's got you in such a bad mood. You don't have to pay attention to anything he says," he said to the auto students, but looking pointedly at Grimmjow. "He's got a pretty face, but a mean mouth." Ichigo threw him a look that clearly said Shut up!, but he missed it.

As Grimmjow watched this exchange, he took in the pair. Both were slim, average height, and good-looking. Shinji had bleached blonde hair, asymmetrically cut so that it tapered from short layers in the back to chin-length points at the front. He seemed a little effeminate, and his movements were elegant, once you got past the outrageous things that came out of his mouth. Ichigo, though similar, seemed to be the opposite. His movements were rougher, edgier, but held a kind of sensual grace of their own. He had dark red hair that was just long enough to settle around his shoulders and fall into his clear hazel eyes, so uncommon in a Japanese face. He was fairly androgynous, and didn't seem to talk much, but when he did it was often slightly biting. Grimmjow's eyes met Ichigo's, and the redhead looked away.

"Do you still want to go for gyuudon?" he asked, and Shinji sat up straighter.

"Of course! Nothing makes for a better pick-me-up than seeing a face of a hot guy as he serves you dinner! If I could just get his number-"

"His?"

"Hm? Yeah. Gorgeous. What I wouldn't do to get into his pants..."

Finished being patched up, Ichigo shouldered his bag and hauled Shinji up off the couch. "Okay, time to go, before you freak the poor guys out."

Shinji pouted. "You're just jealous that you don't have a guy to go after yourself. Or maybe, the man of your dreams presented himself when I wasn't looking?" He leaned in, smiling knowingly, his eyes glinting with mischief. Ichigo opened his mouth to retort when Grimmjow's voice cut in.

"You guys're gay?"

"Too blunt, as always," muttered Ilfort, packing up the first-aid kit.

Shinji winked at him flirtatiously. "Yup! Is that a problem?"

Grimmjow shrugged and Ilfort shook his head. "No problems here. Ulquiorra's gay, so no big deal."

"Grimmjow, talking about someone's sexual preferences when they are not around is rude," said a quiet voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see a green-eyed man leaning against the doorframe.

"Sorry, sorry," said Grimmjow, not sounding the least bit penitent. "Ulquiorra, this is Ichigo and Shinji, from the Art School."

Shinji cocked his head, looking at Ulquiorra critically. Slowly, he moved closer, still examining the new addition to the break room. Suddenly, he grasped Ulquiorra's hand in both of his. "I like you! Will you be my model?"

Ulquiorra blinked, taken aback. "...What?"

Shinji was almost giddy with excitement. "You've got a great body! Not too big, but strong-looking, and the look in your eyes is great! You've got just the feel I've been looking for!"

When Ulquiorra didn't respond, Ilfort stepped forward, looking a bit dubious. "What do you mean, 'the look in your eyes is great'? Ulqui has to be the most expressionless person I've ever met."

It was Shinji's turn to be surprised. "Hm? You think so? Anyway, I've got plenty of experience with reading people others find difficult. Ne, Ichigo?" The redhead's scowl deepened further, already fairly unhappy with Shinji and his loud mouth.

However, Ulquiorra gave a small, nearly inaudible chuckle. "Sure, I'll be your model. Come by sometime, and we'll work it out then." Shinji squeaked, unable to contain his excitement over his new find, and hugged Ulquiorra. Then, he practically skipped over to Ichigo, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door, swinging his camera bad as he raised his freed hand into the air as if to give the signal for a charge.

"We're off to celebrate! To gyuudon!" He called, leaving the breakroom like a whirlwind, Ichigo in tow.

As they passed the cars, Ichigo chuckled at Shinji's enthusiasm. "It's good that you found yourself a model," he said, watching his friend bounce along like he was suddenly the richest man in the world.

"I know! Totally delicious, and gay to boot! And don't think I didn't see you peeking at Grimmjow, too," he said, wagging his finger mock-sternly. "You totally-"

"Kurosaki Ichigo?"

The two froze at the sound of Ichigo's name. They turned to see a tall man leaning over the hood of a car to get a better look at them. His hair was a little long, and fell into his eyes. When he brushed it away, it dawned on Ichigo who it was.

"I go by Tokidoki now," he said curtly.

"Tokidoki? Why? 'Sometimes' is a weird choice, isn't it?"

Ichigo really wanted to leave. "It's my mother's surname, and I've used it since I started high school. What about you? What's a Shiba doing in a Tech School?"

The man laughed lightly. "So you remember me? It's been a few years. Anyway, I took off the day after graduation-couldn't take it in that house anymore. I've been all but disowned, so you can just call me Kaien. How're things with you?"

"Fine. Look, Kaien," Ichigo said tightly, "Don't tell anyone I'm a Kurosaki, okay?" He'd worked hard to keep that particular fact out of common knowledge.

Kaien nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. "No problem. Hey," he said as Ichigo turned away. "Come round sometime. It's been a long time, and we never really got a chance to get to know each other."

Ichigo nodded hesitantly and left. Once outside, Shinji threw an arm around his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. He seems like a good kid."

"...He's three years older than us."

"That's not important. Perk up! The gyuudon boy is waiting! Although, he has some serious competition now - Ulquiorra's quite the catch. Grimmjow too, if your recently-acquired lazy eye is any indication..."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, smiling in spite of himself.