My first Bleach fanfic (coming to you in the ripe year of 2015). Many dark themes are present, including prostitution, abuse, and rape. If such a story is not for you I completely understand and am not offended.

But if you enjoy the disturbing, twisted darkness that acts as the foundation of this plot, then please proceed, and enjoy.:)

WARNING: Starts out slow.

XxXxXxX

Life…it was a bitch.

Every day for the last seven days that has gone through my head, and I didn't see that changing anytime soon.

I strutted into the building with minimal expectations. The lobby was surprisingly clean and uncluttered, and the receptionist gave me a dreamy look I blatantly ignored.

Everyone here seemed cheerful and jolly and shit. It was annoying.

I ended up here because the higher-ups noticed this particular branch was collecting less revenue than the other departments. Because I was the best at what I did, they put me in charge. Giving me more work to do…what a pain in the ass.

I walked past the receptionist and took the elevator to the seventh floor.

If I'd been nervous I would've rehearsed any introductions or kind words I'd been intending to spew out. The elevator was empty, and nobody would've known.

But, like I said earlier, I was the best. I had no reason to be nervous.

The elevator dinged and I stepped onto the floor. The person in charge of this particular department was Stark Coyote, a man known for his indolence but was nevertheless exceptional at what he did. I sneered. Wasted talent.

He met me at the front of the office and we said our greetings. "Nice to meet you," "pleasure doing business with you," blah blah blah. It was all bullshit, and I didn't take any of it seriously.

I was shown around the department and introduced to many of my new coworkers. It was boring as fuck but eventually, finally, I was getting moved into my new office.

I walked into my new room, carrying a box of my belongings. I whistled in approval at the spacious area. It was evidently the biggest one on the floor, and I didn't complain one fucking bit.

I was unpacking my things when I saw a shadow on the floor near the front of my office. A man with long black hair and bangs swooping over one eye was standing at the entrance. He wasn't smirking, but it was close. His teeth were ugly and looked like fucking piano keys, and I did my best not to stare. Or laugh, because the temptation was strong.

He walked into my office. "Hi," I said awkwardly when he still hadn't spoken.

The man stood before me, giving me a creepy smile as he extended a hand. "The name's Nnoitra, nice to meet ya."

I nodded, taking his hand firmly into mine. "Pleasure."

I didn't introduce myself, but in retrospect that probably would've been appropriate. Everyone here knew me. Hell, I showed up on the fucking news on a consistent basis, but that didn't mean I was better than them. I can still introduce myself like equals.

The man named Nnoitra didn't seem bothered, though, and he lingered around, watching me organize my belongings.

"Where ya come from?" he asked.

I pulled out several files, arranging them alphabetically and then in terms of importance. "Kyoto."

Honestly, I thought everyone already knew that. Whether I liked it or not, I was essentially, annoyingly, the celebrity of business.

From the corner of my eye I saw Nnoitra's gaze widen—huh, he didn't know, after all—, and he suddenly stepped farther into the office, plopping down onto a chair.

"That far, huh? So you don't know about any of the…entertainment in this town?"

I blinked, glancing in his direction. What could he be referring to? "What?"

His expression was distorted by a sly grin, and I was starting to regret asking.

"There's this one prostitute that's like a fuckin' god…"

I rolled my eyes.

So this guy's a fucking pervert.

He continued, oblivious to my inner monologue and blatant disgust. "He has the wildest hair, but it looks good, ya know? Bright like the fucking sun. And the sounds he makes, oh wow..."

Nnoitra droned on and on, and I started to drown him out. I wasn't into prostitutes, and I sure as fuck wasn't into guys. I liked sex, sex was fucking great, but only when my partner had huge tits and a vagina.

Nnoitra was still talking by the time my thoughts faded, and I tuned back into what he was saying. "Whadda say, can I bring him?"

I blinked uncertainly, my mind speedily working to understand the question. He'd been talking for a solid ten minutes before I decided to pay attention to the fucker. He wanted to bring his prostitute bitch somewhere? Where?

I pondered. Hm. He was possibly referring to the welcome party the office was evidently throwing for me. I was 90% certain it'd be boring as fuck, and I couldn't imagine how a prostitute would make it be, well, not boring.

More than that, I didn't like the concept of prostitution. It seemed so…dirty. Gross. Sad. I liked sex, but I didn't like the idea of all those kids participating in something like that out of necessity. I doubted most of them were prostitutes by choice. What kind of harsh lifestyle did you have to live to force you into something like that?

I was about to decline when I saw the look on Nnoitra's face. It was fucking filled with anticipation and excitement and everything I was starting to not like about this guy.

Fuck. I mentally sighed. "Sure."

Nnoitra pumped his fist in the air, that sick grin appearing as he thanked me then ran out of the office. I thought I heard an excited, "you won't regret this!" but I was beyond caring now.

It was only day one, and this Nnoitra was already starting to bother me.

XxXxX

The day passed by in a blur. A lot of my workload consisted of organizing materials and getting up-to-date on the company's managing facilities. This branch was lagging in revenue compared to my other, but it was still doing well. Better than I expected, I guess.

That night I gathered supplies into my briefcase and pulled on my jacket. Nnoitra and the other employees had already said their goodbyes, and I took the elevator to the first floor.

I walked through the sliding doors, breathing in the fresh air. I looked up at the sky. The moon was a mere crescent, and the city lights obscured any stars that may have been out.

I breathed contently. Even without stars the darkness felt welcoming. Despite the chilling breeze I felt comfortable. I couldn't help the small smile that appeared on my features.

I turned the corner and suddenly I was colliding with a hard body. I looked down to see the body rebound off my chest, stumbling backward. Without thinking I grabbed his arm, steadying him before he fell on his ass.

The first thing I noticed was his hair. It was a bright, bright orange. His bangs hung low on his forehead, and his hair stuck out in a spastic but oddly appropriate manner. It framed his face well.

The expression on his face looked surprised, but it was too delayed for it to be about stumbling into me. Was he surprised I reached out to help him?

I vaguely wondered why he would be surprised by something like that.

"Sorry," the kid muttered, allowing me to steady him. I nodded, discreetly giving him a once-over. He was a few inches shorter than me, and even with a hoodie I could see his muscles defined and distinct. Looking at his face he couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen, but his eyes, they were so…dull. Old.

I didn't want to know how that was possible.

"You okay, kid?" I asked, less concerned about him almost falling and more concerned about the injury I just noticed on his face. I didn't even realize as I reached out with a gentle hand, barely grazing the bruise that mottled his jaw.

The kid immediately pushed it away, and I noticed the hand that hit me had a long gash running along the middle finger. Why the fuck did this kid have so many injuries?

He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, and I absently wondered what other injuries he was hiding.

"I'm fine," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving past me.

My eyes widened slightly, turning to watch him leave. What an ass. Based on the absolutely nothing I knew about this kid, he seemed wary, distrustful, rude as fuck.

I huffed. Fucking kid. What he needs is to get laid.

XxXxXxX

Later that night I couldn't help but think about the kid. I sat in my apartment, sipping on a beer and staring at the blank television, eyes simmering.

Who was he? Fucking kid, he treated me like I was nobody, just some random fucking joe on the street. Most people greeted me with eager handshakes and, if you were a woman, tight hugs, slippery tongues, and hopefully a fumble back at my place.

But this kid? No, he wasn't like that at all. Our first encounter and he was sneering at me. I'm surprised he didn't fucking spit on my shoe.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Maybe I was thinking about him because he was so different than everyone else I had met.

Part of the day replayed itself in my mind, and my thoughts reverted back to my coworker Nnoitra. He'd been talking about a prostitute. From the little I listened to the physical description matched the kid surprisingly well. Wild, bright hair, "like the sun" or some shit like that.

But not a second later and my mind had rejected the theory. There was no fucking way that kid was a prostitute. The kid I ran into, he was too…proud. He screamed strong, fierce, "don't fuck with me." I couldn't even imagine a kid like that selling his body for sex.

I leaned my head against the back of the sofa and growled. Why the fuck was I still thinking about this?

I looked around the room at my apartment. The kitchen and living room were setup as one spacious room, and I looked around at all the random shit I had. I wasn't finished moving into my apartment—there were fucking boxes everywhere—, and the thought of unpacking them gave me a headache.

I had a lot of shit to unpack, but at least the necessities were complete. The fridge was stocked with beer, the flat-screen was set up, and my bed was made.

And that was all I needed.

It was only 9 o'clock and I grabbed another beer. I turned the TV on and propped my feet onto the mahogany table before me.

An hour later and I got a text inviting me to drop by at her place for a quick fuck. Just reading about how "wet" she was made my pants tight.

Five minutes later and I was outside hailing a taxi.

All-in-all, it was a good night.

XxXxXxX

The second day of work was just like the first, and I went to bed feeling aggravated and too fucking exhausted.

I was a very, very sexual being—I proved that to myself on a regular basis—but this was too much. I wasn't gay. Why did that guy have to be so gay?

Whenever Nnoitra had come into my office earlier today it'd only be to talk about his prostitute. And it was nearly a nonstop barrage, and he had dwindled down my self-control to the size of a toothpick. I wasn't sure how much more I could handle before I threw his head into the nearest wall then out my window.

Frustrated, I fiercely scrubbed my still damp hair with a towel. These next few weeks I'd have to step up my game. The faster I finished up work here the faster I could go back to my own branch.

I tossed the towel into my laundry hamper. Moving through my spacious bedroom I decided to go commando for bed tonight, just to change things up a bit. My precious junk needed to breathe, and what better way to allow that than free-balling it?

The lights were out, and I was nicely tucked in when I heard noises from the neighboring room.

First of all, what the fuck? I was living in a top-class apartment complex. Why the fuck were these walls thin enough for me to be able to hear what my neighbor was up to? Second, was that moaning I heard?

As tired as I was I couldn't help but listen intently, trying to decipher the sounds.

"Ah, ah!" After a moment, the thumping of skin-on-skin was outrageously obvious. My neighbor was fucking someone and, by the sounds of it, it was another guy.

I was actually kind of impressed, though. I'd met my neighbor—Barragan Luisenbarn, or something like that—once when I first started moving in, and he was not a pretty man. He was three hundred pounds of old and fat.

And now he had successfully bedded another man?

Fuck. If I got surrounded by any more homos I was afraid I'd start becoming one. Like, what the fuck?

The groans coming from the fuckee were actually kind of hot, my dick twitching, and that immediately told me enough was enough. I'd give my neighbor a stern talking to later but, right now, earbuds.

I retrieved them and placed them snugly in my ears. This would suffice.

And, if I had to sleep with earbuds ever again, I'd make sure to shove them up my neighbor's ass next time I saw him.

XxXxXxX

The days past by, and suddenly it was Friday, the day of my stupid celebration party. It was the middle of the afternoon and I could already hear everyone setting up for it. These fuckers were on the clock, and they were fucking around?

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I'd let it be. Everyone seemed really excited, and I didn't want to be the fucker that ruined it.

But to be honest I wasn't that thrilled about it. I was mainly going for the beer, maybe to chat up a pretty woman. Meeting the coworkers was great and all, but I'd be doing that every day all day for the foreseeable future. No need to throw a party to prolong the damn thing.

I turned in my chair and stared out the window. I wasn't looking forward to when Nnoitra brought his damn prostitute, either. It'll be some gross-looking, syphilis-riddled whore that has a face as ugly as Nnoitra himself.

I sneered. I was just ready to get the meet-and-greet over with. Nnoitra will probably flaunt his ugly ass then just as quickly leave to fuck him.

Huh. I'd only known the fucker a week and I already hated his guts.

Time passed and I dutifully continued my work. I wrote an email to the Sections Manager and sorted out some of the shit he'd already messed up on. Fucker.

Looking at the log, though, everyone seemed timely with his or her schedule. Even Nnoitra was decent. Which surprised me. A lot.

A timid knock resounded on my office door. "M-Mr. Jaegerjaquez?" a hesitant voice called out.

I waved her in, then remembered she couldn't see me. "Come in."

The door opened and a petite female with mediocre features and dark hair appeared. I think her name is Hinamori, but I didn't want to fuck up and say the wrong name.

Her cheeks were tinted pink, and she played with the hem of her dress. "We-We'd like to celebrate you j-joining our team. The party starts in a few minutes i-if you're interested."

I looked at the clock. 8:26pm. I whistled, that late already?

"Sure, I'll be right there, cutie."

Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and I probably just made her panties wet. "O-Okay!" she said frantically, hesitating before she closed my door and scampered off somewhere.

I sighed. Time to get this over with.

XxXxXxX

An hour past and nothing of significance has occurred. I've drunk a couple beers, gotten a few numbers, but other than that it's been uneventful.

I took a sip of my Jack Daniels. I'd rather be lounging around at home than be forced to suffocate at a lame-ass party. Fuck, I'd rather be working.

Watching everyone, they seemed to be having a lot of fun, though. There was a karaoke, and some girl with huge tits falling out of her shirt was singing (more like screaming) into a microphone. A beer was resting in her other hand, and I was positive she was drunk off her ass.

"Grimmie! Come meet the beautiful sex god I've been tellin' ya about!"

Grimmie?

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Oh god. Nnoitra.

Ignoring the stupid nickname, Nnoitra was still a fucking pain in the ass. He didn't understand I didn't care, and he didn't understand I had actually grown to detest him at a very rapid rate. That was uncanny, even for me.

I turned to meet his gaze, and suddenly my feet were frozen. I couldn't take my eyes away. No matter what I did all I could do was stare.

W-What…

The kid.

How?

The bright orange hair was just as spastic and bright as I remembered it. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and the sneer on his face was ever-present. The bruise on his left jaw had faded. His eyes acknowledged me but didn't seem to care he'd run into me before.

I could feel myself staring, and I swiftly schooled my features. It didn't matter, none of it mattered. So the kid was a prostitute. I guessed wrong, whatever.

They were standing directly in front of me now, Nnoitra's arm wrapped possessively around the kid's waist. His head was bent to sit neatly beside the orange-haired kid's, and I felt repulsed when his tongue slipped out between his lips.

"His name's Ichigo. Wanna give him a try?" he asked as he petted the kid's arm.

I watched the kid Ichigo's expression. It had been an indifferent sneer, but now it was a blank canvas devoid of emotion.

Nnoitra's fingers were slipping under Ichigo's shirt and teasing at the thin skin. My stomach flipped over and over. This was disgusting. This was absolutely disgusting.

I hated Nnoitra more than I've ever hated anyone.

"No, I don't."

I was usually exceptional at masking my emotions, my anger, but for some reason, right now, I could feel it slipping. Who did this fucker Nnoitra think he was?

The boy named Ichigo was watching me with an odd glint in his eyes. The blank canvas was gone. Was that a subdued version of curiosity in his eyes?

I couldn't blame him, I was curious, too. Why was I reacting like this?

Nnoitra seemed entirely unperturbed, wrapping the arm tighter around the kid to lead him away. "A'ight, but if ya change your mind lemme know!"

I stared at their backs. The hand holding my Jack Daniels wouldn't stop shaking. What the fuck, did I suddenly develop tourrette's or some shit?

I put the glass in my other hand and took a huge gulp. Time to distract myself and socialize.

XxXxXxX

Turned out the socializing was boring and significantly less distracting than I anticipated. I mean seriously, what the fuck is up with these people? Boring motherfuckers. The only pleasant thing about tonight was watching Rangiku's rack as she took a turn at the karaoke.

I was bored as fuck and there was a sizable portion of rage tickling my spine, but I ignored it. I continued on with this damn party, strutting over to the makeshift bar area to refill my Jack. I socialized with people that annoyed me and flirted with women that weren't my type.

Currently I was with Hinamori, who was talking to me as she shyly twirled a finger through strands of hair. She was discussing her plans for the weekend, and I think she was subtly hinting that I go to her little cousin's birthday party with her. Fucking insufferable, this chick.

A coworker Shuuhei appeared beside me, and I nearly got on my knees to thank him. We quickly began discussing business. Hinamori didn't seem appreciative of the intrusion, but she was too timid to say anything. She just remained by my side like a fucking puppy, listening as Shuuhei and I conversed.

Half an hour later and I was finally, finally, free from humans. No one came to talk with me, and Hinamori went to "use the little girl's room."

I swallowed the last of the Jack I was allowing myself for the night—I had zero intention of getting drunk—and glanced around the room. My eyes spotted orange hair, and they immediately focused on it.

Nnoitra and Ichigo were sitting in chairs lined up along the wall. No one was directly beside them, and both of them had glasses in their hands (though it looked like the kid was drinking…water?).

While one of Nnoitra's hands brought the glass to his lips, the other was sliding along the inner part of Ichigo's thigh. The kid didn't outwardly react, but I could tell his body was rigid, unyielding as he kept his back straight and gaze on anything but the man next to him.

Nnoitra leaned in until he was basically fucking eating the kid's ear, and he whispered something I couldn't hear. I barely caught the shiver that bounded through Ichigo's body.

Suddenly a guy sat down in a chair on Ichigo's left and started talking with Nnoitra. I was curious, more than curious, and was finally about to walk over there when a woman lithely stepped into my path.

It was the big-breasted Rangiku.

"Grimmjow…are you enjoying the party?" she purred, running a delicate finger along my sleeve.

"I am, thank you." I didn't want to be curt, but she was definitely interfering with more important matters.

The finger continued traveling back and forth along my forearm. She waved her other hand carelessly. "This has been…fun and all, but…do you wanna take this somewhere else?" Her mouth was contorted into a sly, feral grin.

If it were any other time, I wouldn't have rejected her even in my dreams. But oddly, her tits that were the size of Mars and her dress that barely covered her thighs didn't register in my mind.

I knew I had the reputation of being a womanizer—and it was an appropriate reputation—, but fucking this woman was not on my to-do list right now.

I excused myself with some lame apology, walking past her and surging toward where the kid Ichigo had been.

All three chairs were empty, and I fought the growl that threatened to erupt.

Where the fuck did they go?

Twenty minutes later and I collapsed into a chair with an angry snarl, defeated. I hadn't found Ichigo, but I sure as hell found all the people I wasn't interested in chit-chatting with. I'd forgotten this party was technically thrown for me, so everyone wanted to congratulate me and welcome me. It was flattering, but it was also stupid as fuck.

Another person sat down beside me, his body facing in my direction. His lips were moving, but I wasn't paying attention. This guy was some nameless nothing. I didn't care about this person. Did he even work here? I didn't recognize him at all.

I absently glanced around the room, looking for something, anything, to take my mind off this random guy.

My eyes stared in surprise when I noticed Nnoitra. Nnoitra, who was grabbing another beer from the cooler, chatting with a coworker like it was the most natural thing in the world. Ichigo and that other guy were out of sight, and I couldn't help but feel dread welling up. Even though Nnoitra was obviously not harassing Ichigo, my gut was telling me to look for the kid.

It wasn't my business, though. I didn't care. The guy sitting behind me was some nameless nothing, and the orange-haired prostitute was absolutely a nameless fucking nothing.

I had to take a piss, so I excused myself from the guy that sat beside me. He was probably embarrassed with how blatantly I ignored him, but oh well.

I weaved through the various people on my way to the bathroom. There were way too many humans in this one area, and I was annoyed with how many coworkers and "plus one's" there were.

I finally reached my destination, barely holding in my sigh of relief as I pushed the door open.

The first thing I noticed was a distinct grunting sound. I blinked, abruptly thrown off-kilter. Was someone bearing down that hard? Talk about a shit being a shit.

But as the grunts continued I quickly determined that couldn't be the source. I quietly turned the corner to see the last stall door slightly ajar, distinct shadows dancing along the tile floor.

The grunting was a loud constant reverberating throughout the bathroom. It sounded like skin ramming into skin, and I heard a faint groan.

I felt my feet move on their own as I edged toward the stall. I opened the bathroom stall, and suddenly my mind went blank.

Ichigo was leaning against the wall, and the guy that had been with him before was situated behind the kid. Both of their pants were wrapped around their ankles, and the guy was violently surging back and forth, back and forth.

My glaring eyes never left the scene, and the nameless fucker gasped and spewed out curses as he noticed me. He pulled out of Ichigo, which made an erotic sloshing noise. The wrinkles that had creased Ichigo's forehead disappeared, and that was enough for me to know my presence was a good one.

The kid slipped his pants back over his hips, but the guy that had been…touching him was frozen in fear. He was holding his hands up in pleading, and his entire body was visibly trembling.

"Y-Ya got a problem, man? I-I paid for this kid, man."

I think he kept talking, but my mind didn't register any of it.

The only thing that registered was Ichigo's neck, and the dark, finger-shaped bruise that now adorned the skin.

No, no…I don't think you paid to hurt him.

I didn't notice as my arm cocked back, and I gathered all of my strength into my fist. I also didn't notice as my fist pummeled through the guy's face, nor did I notice the distinct cracking sound that followed.

The guy moaned in agony, his hands cupping his bloody nose as he wailed. "Fuck, you broke my nose, man!"

"Leave." My hardened gaze penetrated his frightened, cowardly one. "Leave before I break something else."

He whimpered, pants still wrapped around his ankles as he stumbled away, out of the stall and out of the bathroom. He was still spewing curses as he left, but he didn't look back.

The kid didn't seem particularly pleased with my intrusion, his face blank as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He didn't move from his spot, merely staring at the bathroom stall wall.

"Why did you do that?"

I scoffed. As I stared at the bruise around his neck I wondered how he could even ask that. "Are you fucking with me, kid?" He didn't respond, so I continued, angry. "He hurt you. Sex isn't supposed to hurt. Is that not reason enough?"

Ichigo blinked, and for the first time since the fucker guy left he finally looked at me.

Based on his reaction I guessed he hadn't been expecting my response. He seemed surprised, which reminded me of the first time I met him. Was the kid once again that astonished someone actually cared for his well-being?

The kid picked up his hoodie off the ground, pulling it over his head. "No."

"You're a fucking brat, you know that?"

The kid was blatantly unaffected. "And you are involving yourself with something that is none of your business."

I grit my teeth together. I genuinely couldn't believe how hot-tempered he was being with me. I didn't want special treatment for being wealthy or well-known, I fucking didn't, but I still got it. I'd gotten used to the cowardly, spineless sheep that manifested around me. They were automated, thoughtlessly agreeing with me or indulging me just because of who I was.

This kid was being a shit, but he was also different, a good kind of different. He was crass, rough around the edges, but it was like breathing in a breath of fresh air.

I leaned against the stall door with an amused smirk. "You don't have many friends, do you?"

The kid's gaze was intense and distrustful, and I could feel it penetrating through my very being. I wondered if I wasn't the first person to assume that. "I don't need friends."

Damn, he was so damn cynical. What kind of world has he lived in all this time?

"Thanks for saving me." He walked past me, his shoulder clipping mine. "But I don't need saving."

I had no retort for that, and I merely watched him leave.

A few weeks later and we both discovered he was very, very wrong.

XxXxXxX

Completion of Chapter 1 = mission accomplished.

It may have been mildly boring, but I hope you nevertheless enjoyed! Maybe it'll get better? Meehhh. I can't guarantee it. But I've never been good at introductions, so...we shall seeXD