Disclaimer: Kubo Tite owns Bleach, not me.

Grimmjow fought to wake up; he was dreaming of his childhood - a time of his life when everything was bright and lazy. He didn't want to remember how that felt, he'd missed it too much already.

His brain slowly woke up and he realized what foolish little fight he had just put up with his own subconscious. So what if nostalgia drowned him the moment he woke up? It already was suffocating him everyday.

So he kept his eyes closed, and breathed deeply to calm his heart. He was lying on his right side, and he felt somewhat sore, as if he spent the entire night in that very same position. That was probably the case because he would usually tense up whenever he had those dreams, or so people told him.

He stretched out, rolling onto his back. He had thought he was all alone so when his hand touched something soft and fluffy, his hand shot back to his side and his head snapped to the side with a sudden ferociousness to see exactly who the fuck it is that was in bed with him. He desperately prayed it not be Nel - his ex and his long time step sister.

Thinking of Nel, it was because of the feelings he developed for her that his life went spiraling down. But then again, if he was honest, he didn't really love her the way she made him believe he did. He just wanted to escape, escape from his true feelings and it's complications.

He relaxed. It was only Ichigo - the best friend from nursery times and number one complication of Grimmjow's whole life.

Then he was confused for a while as to why he was in bed with said complication because of a small distraction called headache settling in and making itself at home in his head, but when memories from the previous night came back to him, he assumed that Ichigo had carried him to his own place after—after he passed out? Hm, didn't remember that at all.

But then again, who remembers the point when they drifted off to sleep?

Suddenly, Ichigo was awake and the summer that he was shined up with him. Grimmjow eyeballed the orange-head as he practically glowed in the sharp yet comforting rays of the morning sun.

Grimmjow was going to be honest: ichigo looked sexed up with puffy lips, messy hair, glowing skin and mellow chocolate eyes. So what Grimmjow said next could not be blamed on him.

He furrowed his brows, "I hope I didn't rape you last night."

ichigo stared at him for a few seconds before spazz-laughing all over the place with a finger constantly pointed at Grimmjow.