A.N.: That isn't even remotely a creative title.

I do not own Bleach.

Strangers

The snow was crisp, untouched. It crunched underneath her shoes richly and held firm when she cautiously hopped over a small bundle of frozen weeds sticking out from underneath. She avoided the pavement staunchly, keeping along the edges where the snow was neither too thin nor too thick to tread upon. When it came to be that she had to cross the courtyard, she slowed her pace to a snail's crawl and watched her feet the entire time, holding her breath whenever she became too uncertain of herself over a sheet of ice or dark spot.

"You're gonna break your neck."

She stopped altogether, jerking her head up and then immediately scrambling for balance.

"Ah," he said, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. Aside from the black coat and the pair of old boots, he was hardly dressed for the weather. His jeans were gray and torn at the knees, the tanned skin underneath bare for all the world to see. The buttons of his coat undone so that the very obviously thin t-shirt and the metallic necklaces he wore about his neck in place of a more practical scarf were visible. "See, what'd I tell ya?"

"I…" she began, but trailed off as he began to pat at his pockets with his bare hands. He pulled out his phone to check the time, and then rifled about for a pack of gum. "I wasn't planning on staying this time around, I'm not used to snow, you see."

"You from down south?" he asked, easily making his way over to her. She kept track of his footsteps, but he paid very little mind to where he stepped. He even had the gall to raise a brow at her when he caught her gaze.

"I live by the bay," she clarified, suddenly feeling overdressed compared to him. She was wearing a long sleeve beneath a jacket beneath a coat, wrapped tight in a knit scarf. Two pairs of socks, a pair or mittens, and her thickest jeans. She couldn't find a good pair of shoes to wear, and so she'd settled for regular sneakers. This was the wrong choice, evidently, as he instantly made a face at them.

"No," he said, gesturing down at her feet.

"I know," she sighed, before he could further comment on them.

"People do tend to leave before the snow sticks," he said, scratching behind his ear.

"I was planning on it," she replied, and then adjusted her bag pointedly. "But I got a part time job here and…"

"Yeah," he waved her off. "I get it. How much time you got before your shift starts?"

She checked her phone. "Maybe half an hour? Why?"

He turned, pocketing his hands once more. "I'm in a good mood today. I'll help you out."

.x.

The extra pair of socks helped in the process of breaking in her new boots, and it was excessively easier to walk around without the inane fear of slipping haunting her every move. The journey back to the dorms was almost a breeze, she very nearly began skipping. The sun had long set and the lamp posts were hardly a guide, but as soon as she crossed onto campus she felt a large weight fall off of her shoulders.

He had disappeared after helping her pick out essentials, leading her around the store and tossing random objects into the cart. "You aren't gonna become a pro or anything," he'd told her, ticking off the things in the cart before stepping back and nodding her toward the checkout lines. "But at least you're not gonna shatter your skull on the fucking sidewalk."

"Thanks," she'd muttered, but in all honesty had been overflowing with gratitude; it buzzed through her now. It was almost euphoric.

She hadn't bought much, and he had assured her only once that she didn't need much. The extra weight in her bag was reassuring, but not extensively. Part of her wondered why he hadn't mentioned buying an extra blanket or two, or those chains people put on their tires for whatever reason. She had almost considered going back and purchasing them, but the image of him making that face at her he'd made at her shoes earlier had her rethinking that entirely.

She didn't even have a car.

It wasn't as if she really cared what he thought of her, just the fact that she felt so inadequate all of a sudden in light of her situation and that he wouldn't be helping that at all; it made her wilt in defeat a little.

"Hey, you survived," his voice piped up, as if her very thoughts had manifested him. He was sitting casually on one of the benches in the courtyard, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He straightened and tipped his head back, a thick cloud escaped his mouth and he smiled blithely. "How was your day, Pumpkin?"

"Do not," she immediately asserted, to which he chuckled easily. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

She regretted that instantly.

"Ooh," he grinned, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His nose wasn't even remotely pink. "Worried are we?"

She looked away when she noticed the glowing butt of a cigarette, what she had assumed was his breath on the cold air was in fact smoke. It unsettled her. "No," she lied, tucking her hands into her pockets and kicking her feet a little.

"Well, by your standards it is, very much, freezing," he said, standing and grinding the cigarette under his boot. He spread his arms with another smile. "It's dangerous out, I'll walk you."

"Are you still in a good mood?"

"Always in a good mood when there's no people around. None of that, 'you're gonna get lung cancer' bullshit."

"You are gonna get lung cancer," she stated.

He wiped his hands on his jeans as he stepped toward her. "Don't overthink it. I have one a day, and I'm chewing gum every other hour to keep that shit in wraps. I'm working on it."

Something tugged in her chest and she looked away. "Well. Then I have no place to judge you."

He nodded ahead. "Lead the way."

"Why did you help me? Aside from being in a good mood."

"We're the only two people on campus, and all my friends are visiting their family for the holidays, so. I was feeling bored."

"Why aren't you?"

"Home is the next state over, equally cold. I figure it's not worth the effort. Christmas isn't really my thing."

"Or are you just cheap?" she asked without thinking, and before she could hurry to apologize he cracked another grin.

"If I was more of a gentleman I would've offered to pay for all that shit you're carrying." He looked upwards for a moment and then back down at her, holding out his hand. "Speaking of which, let me carry all that shit."

She handed over her bag when he didn't relent. "You've quite a mouth on you."

"We're two very different breeds, Pumpkin."

"Do not," she snapped, and again it only elicited another chuckle.

"You thinking of heading down any time soon to see your folks?"

"Ah," she said, rubbing her arm. "My uncles actually raised me, and they're off somewhere overseas on vacation. Before you say anything, I persuaded them to do it, so."

"Hey, more time for us," he said, and when she reflexively ducked away he stopped to give her another look. "I see you get hit on a lot."

"N… No, I just." She waved her hands as if in search of an answer, before dropping them with a sigh. "You're not the type, I misjudged you."

"Hey, I'm a piece of shit but I'm not gonna overstep my boundaries." He pointed down at the space between them. It was the first she was noticing it, but he'd kept a good distance since meeting her. "Not unless you want me to, of course."

He didn't tip that off with another grin, but the implication was there.

"I don't even know you," she said, point blank.

"How old are you again," he deadpanned, turning to continue down the path.

"Twenty," she declared, and then wondered if he needed the answer at all.

"I feel like maybe I don't gotta explain myself here," he said, waiting for her to catch up. "I'm not saying you should drop everything and stick with me—that would be one fucking mistake you're never gonna live down—but maybe it wouldn't hurt to just. Let it happen."

"You helped a total stranger today from 'shattering their skull.' And while that is terribly nice of you, and I will be forever grateful that you did, I don't think this is quite the right way to express that."

"How do you know?" he asked, rounding on her once they made it to the entrance of the dorms. "Maybe this is the best way."

"Are you just," she began, waving her hands between them; his eyes followed them before he tore his gaze back up to hers, confused. "Are you just trying to get into my pants?"

"No, girl jeans stopped fitting me when I was like sixteen."

"Stop," she forced out around an exasperated laugh.

"Look, I'm not gonna stand here all night trying to convince you to go on a date with me. It is pretty fucking cold out and I could be doing something else."

"Like?"

"Fucking—I don't know, finishing a novel or something?" He patted his pockets again, catching her eye and deliberately pulling out the pack of gum again. "Want one?"

"Is it mint?"

"I mean, it's blue."

She stuffed the wrapper in her pocket as she chewed, considering his offer. "The last time I dated was disastrous."

"Funny, that," he muttered, scratching at the back of his head. "Happens."

"To you?"

"It did," he said evasively. "But it's not baggage, or anything. We cut things clean, we don't even talk anymore. Which is a good thing, mind you. Not a good friend to have."

"You wouldn't wanna be friends first? With me, I mean."

"I feel like I'd resent you," he said honestly, and jumped a little when she reached out to touch his arm. She angled her arm to slide her hand into his pocket, and found his tightly gripping the pack of gum. "That's moving things super quick. How 'bout a kiss next?"

"You'd taste like cigarettes," she mumbled, weaving her fingers around his. His hand was hot, she could feel it through the mitten. It radiated out through her hand and then her arm, and she shivered pleasantly at the sensation. She relented quickly. "Okay, you can kiss me."

He whistled low, and ducked his head when she shot him a withering glare. He tilted his head and molded his lips full onto hers, and again she was caught off guard by how warm he was. And then how soft his mouth was. He breathed in, but very carefully pulled away before she could catch wind of his breath. She could taste it on her lips, bitter, but she tugged him by the hand. He let her pull it from the confines of his pocket, drag him toward her as she leaned up into him for another.

And then another, and then her other hand was sliding up his arm to grip his hair.

She felt his teeth as he grinned into the kiss, nearly backtracked when he playfully nipped her lip.

"It does taste terrible," she commented when he shifted his attention to her jawline. He skipped up to her temple, humming deep in his throat. "I don't want your mouth anywhere near me."

He was busy nuzzling her ear, but he stopped immediately. "Oh."

"Have your fingertips changed color?"

"That's just to scare you off," he sighed, but let her hold up his hands to examine under the light. "We don't gotta do anything tonight if you don't want. I asked for a date, not a quickie."

She bristled, looking away.

He was making that stupid face again. "Unless of course, you were."

She turned on her heel to march up the stairs.

"Oh, come on," he called after her, following easily. "I'm not making fun of you, I just assumed you wouldn't want to."

"We just met," she reasoned, more with herself than him. "I shouldn't be—I shouldn't be kissing some stranger! Much less…sleeping with him!"

He leaned against the wall as she contemplated the door handle, folding his arms. "I mean, you're really free to do what you want. We're both adults; we're both consenting adults. And I mean, I gave you wisdom and some gum, and through all that you decided it was likeable enough to make out with."

She reached out and opened the door, pausing for a moment and then holding it open. "Alright. But if you do something I don't like, I'm kicking you out."

He waited until she was inside to say, "It's bound to happen at some point. We gotta learn each other, you know."

"The last few times I've done it have ended…disastrously."

"Let's agree that you have terrible taste in men, me included."

"You put yourself down frequently," she noted, leading him down the hall and up the stairs. "You're not really selling yourself to me."

"We're about to have sex, I think I've done a pretty fucking solid job," he stated, and then hurriedly smoothed down her sleeves when she turned to face him sharply. "Oh, come on. We're still getting to know each other. It's important to take things with a grain of salt."

"We barely know each other," she mumbled to herself, but he smiled almost pleasantly.

"My name's Grimmjow, if that makes you feel any better."

She held onto the railing for support. "It doesn't."

"Up here?" he asks, taking her by the hand and leading her the rest of the way up the stairs. "It's polite to reply with your own name, by the way. We've been over this, I'm no gentleman."

"Nelliel," she provided, and gestured. "End of the hall, on the left."

"You sharing with anyone?"

"We're the only ones on campus."

"I don't wanna fuck with anyone's shit."

"My bed's on the right. They took all their things anyway."

She decidedly locked the door behind them, and tried not to be surprised when he disposed of the bag on top of the other bed and then flopped down onto her own; his feet hung off the end. He folded his arms behind his head and let his eyes trail the walls. "Nice place. Real put together."

"Ignore the poster," she said, working on the buttons of her coat and hanging it on the hook behind the door. She unraveled the scarf from her throat, and then began unzipping her jacket.

"You say that now," he replied, turning his head to look up at the group of dolled up men peering down at him seductively. "Personally, I'd have a hard time going to sleep."

"My roommate said something similar," she muttered, sweeping off her thick sweater and tossing it aside. She sat down at the edge, beside his legs. "Really, my uncles are fans of them. I just brought it along as a keepsake."

"Thoughtful," he hummed, and she nodded listlessly in response.

She nearly yelped when his fingers carefully peeled aside her shirt collar to trail his lips across her shoulder and up toward her throat. "You move fast," she said unsteadily, titling her head when he paused to brush aside her hair.

"You move faster," he threw back. He sucked softly at the space underneath her ear. "Come here."

"I don't know if I'm ready anymore," she said, shifting along the bed and then rolling onto her back. He'd scooted back enough to allow her the space, pushing himself over her to brace himself on his hands.

"We don't gotta do anything tonight," he reminded her, and then reached down to pat down his pockets. "See, I'm not even prepared. We'd be playing with fire if we'd gone through with it."

"Oh," she breathed in relief, and then reached down around his coat to his back pocket. When he froze, she instantly grew suspicious and yanked out his wallet. "You liar."

"Well, shit, officer, I didn't know it was illegal to keep a condom in my fucking wallet."

Her face burned. "Why did you lie?"

"Why do you think?"

She pressed the wallet to his chest. "That's so sweet of you. I think…"

"Hey, what can I say," he muttered, and then adjusted himself above her. He comfortably rested his cheek on her shoulder, distributing his weight lower. He was still heavy, but she didn't have the heart to complain. "I might be a piece of shit, but I've got enough decency."

"To lie."

"To—okay, well, to make a girl feel not guilty about turning me down but I guess that's one fucking way of putting it, thanks."

Something warm coiled in her chest, and she carefully carded her fingers through his hair. "We have a little under a month," she reminded, and when he hummed this time it almost seemed to vibrate all throughout her body. "We just met—with how fast things are going, I'm pretty sure we'll be…you know, pretty frequently by the time the break ends."

"That's gonna suck. People are gonna come back."

"Do you. Not like people?"

He turned his head to look at her.

"Okay, don't. Don't look at me like that, I get it."

He surged up on his elbows kiss the corner of her lips. A second time and he was moving to climb off of her. She held firm.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, if we're not doing anything I'm gonna head back to my place. I had some left overs I wanted to get to, if you wouldn't mind."

She was bewildered. "You're gonna leave for some pizza?"

"It was actually some pasta, I went out with some friends before they left. It was fucking good, for your information."

She gave another exasperated laugh. "You can't read the atmosphere?"

"This?" he waved around them. "This fucking atmosphere? You wanna cuddle all night and talk about our feelings? Did you forget who I am?"

"We just met!"

"All the more reason."

She made a sound, miffed, and the frustration only fizzled out when he leaned back down to kiss her again.

"Do you happen to have a microwave in here?"

.x.

A.N.: I like this pairing a lot despite the fact that we all know how likely it is of ever becoming canon and I write for them far more frequently than they deserve. We're all friends here on the grimmnel boat.

Review please. I actually wanna continue this but I got impatient. So let me know what you think and then, yeah. Hopefully.