Edited Sept 3, 2018 to be M rated as per ffnet's rules.


CHAPTER 2

Accept for a few more lewd suggestions, strangely, the blue-haired warrior prince turned King hadn't made any real advances on Ichigo in the past day. To his deep relief.

He seemed hell bent on keeping Ichigo around, but he was utterly misguided if he thought Ichigo was going to give in and be one of his perverted conquests. All the blue-haired wolf wanted was to steal away his first time for his own shallow enjoyment. Nothing more.

And it wasn't just Ichigo. Grimmjow wanted first dibs on all of the city's eligible males. So typical of the rich. It was so selfish.

If his own pride didn't run so deep, Ichigo might have enjoyed the thought of spending his first time with someone like him. Even when he was being an asshole, he wasn't without his charms; power, charisma, self assurance. He was someone who, on many levels, Ichigo felt equal to, minus the crown and the years he'd need to come into his own of course.

Grimmjow was different from anybody Ichigo had ever met. And not just because of his status. No matter what cards he was dealt in life, Ichigo guessed that Grimmjow would have found himself into a position of power. Clawed his way there. Though, without the influences of people like his father, he might find his way into such shady things as to be against the powers that be, rather than with them.

That was the thing about Grimmjow. He had eyes Ichigo could understand. An ocean of strength, resolve, perseverance, and a glint of mayhem that hadn't once yet failed to put the hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck out of line.

He shifted his position on the sofa and drew his arm up behind his head, resting it in the crook of his elbow.

He couldn't sleep.

It was ridiculous really, one person all alone in a room this palatial. He felt more at home in the tight spaces of the dungeon than this stupid room that smelled of overly testosteroned male. He hoped he wouldn't be kept here against his will long enough to get used to it. That would suck.

And not just because it was a chore to be here.

His third day in the castle had been pretty good, actually. Comparatively speaking.

His first day was spent in the dungeons. And his second had seen him in the throne room and the king's chambers, then hanging off a rope that led... right back into the King's clutches.

At least, today, Grimmjow had allowed Ichigo to move around the grounds and learn the layout of the castle. He honestly shouldn't complain. He had access to practically everywhere.

He kind of felt like royalty, or he would have if it weren't for the three guards assigned to keep him from skipping town again.

He could almost brush it off. Almost. The day had been interesting. He'd even been instructed to offer suggestions to Grimmjow if he saw any goings on in the castle that he thought might be improved upon. And this time, he wouldn't be patted on the head. It was Grimmjow's grudging promise.

When he thought about it though, as much as he was thankful for the small freedom, he was still a prisoner, and at the end of the day he told Grimmjow exactly what he thought.

"S'matter? I gave you a fucking guided tour of the palace. You think this is a fucking carnival? That anyone can just wander in and nose around my home? I could keep you in the dungeon until you break, you know!"

"Can't you get anyone to sleep with you of their own free will? Or is by force your only option?"

"..."

Grimmjow fizzled and spat for nearly ten long seconds before he steamrolled out of the room, door slamming shut so hard, Ichigo swore he'd never hear again.

Ichigo drew his blanket up against the nighttime's growing chill. It was a cool one tonight, and the fire hadn't been stoked for awhile. He expected that Grimmjow would add one last log to the flames before he retired.

But the bed far across the room lay empty.

The moment he'd said the words, Ichigo had felt his gut telling him he'd taken it a bit too far. He'd been right on the mark. But still. Grimmjow really was trying to be nice, in his own, I'm the alpha 'round here kind of way.

Ichigo rolled onto his side and watched the fire's desperate attempts to cling to the floor, the ceiling, the sheets of the neatly made bed. He tossed his blanket back and sat up, the nip in the air raising the flesh of his skin. He may as well be the one to feed the fire one last log before he hopefully succumbed to sleep himself. Grimmjow wouldn't enjoy coming home to a freezing bedchamber.

He wasn't going to apologize for his remarks, but he could at least do that much.

He settled the wood onto the dying embers of Grimmjow's fire and returned to his bed, watching as the fire sparked, then began to climb back to life.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to drift off, Grimmjow's image the last thing on his mind before he went, the smallest of smiles on his lips.

It was sort of sweet the way he clung so desperately to the one thing he couldn't have. Hopeless, but sweet.

X X X

The next day saw a distinct change in Ichigo's schedule.

Shutting a man of Ichigo's temperament inside his chambers the entire day had been cruel and overall not wise. Obviously.

And Grimmjow was nothing if not adaptable. Giving him a guided tour of the castle was, in Grimmjow's opinion a worthy gift, though in Ichigo's opinion, it was apparently just... a start.

It was clear that Ichigo needed some action. Not the kind Grimmjow wanted to give him... but still, something where he could stretch his feathers and pick up a broader range of the skills he seemed so quick to absorb.

So, the bluenet had set up a real treat. Training with his elite guards. The best swordsmen in the entire valley.

Grimmjow had expected a muted response at best, convinced that Ichigo would never show any form of gratitude to him, lest it give Grimmjow the wrong idea and serve to kindle his desire to bed him.

At least, that's what Grimmjow had anticipated. But for a moment, Ichigo had been so pumped he could hardly respond with words when Grimmjow had mentioned it that morning.

The only caveat was that the session wouldn't start until later in the day.

That was fine with Ichigo. Just fine. There was plenty for him to do until then. He would check out more of the castle. He would help the groundskeepers with their chores. He could point out the weak spots in the guards patrol...

Or maybe he would read.

Grimmjow had been pleasantly surprised up until then. But at that, and the subtle shift in tone at his consort's declaration, his lungs had given up their air on him. He was sure it was an innocent comment, had to be, but just the thought of Ichigo even thinking about it... Well... when he'd left Ichigo to perform his morning ablutions in private and go about filling his day, Grimmjow had grinned all the way down the hall.

. . .

It wasn't until the height of the day when Grimmjow finally cracked and put a temporary end to his meetings. Out in the rear courtyard, Ichigo had been training under the guidance of the King's finest warriors for several hours. The bluenet was more than a little curious to see how far along he'd come. He claimed he could use a sword, but in a real fight a simple lift and swing of a sharp blade were nothing without the skill to use it.

And so, Grimmjow had jumped into the sparring session as a mid afternoon break. He'd been moving through his meetings a little faster than usual anyway. He found it became much easier when one said yes to every reasonable thing. He could spend a lot more time with his future consort, and less of it hearing repeated requests.

Grimmjow had watched in silence from the doorway for only a few seconds before he was noticed and the training came to a natural break. The guards bowed and praised the young man's aptitude, and he snorted. That would be for Grimmjow to decide. With a nod, Grimmjow had challenged the younger man with as much serious intent as he could.

What could a boy really do with a sword against an experienced warrior?

"Alright, kid. Show me what you've got." He smirked. When Ichigo hesitated to raise his sword, Grimmjow tilted his head and graced him with a light bow, tucking a hand behind himself. "I'll even keep one arm behind my back."

Ichigo's expression grew from wary, eyes narrowing, to hostile.

"I told you. I'm not a kid."

"Common then." Grimmjow grinned shark-like, and his blade swept across the tip of Ichigo's sword to egg him forward. That's all it took.

Ichigo lunged, but Grimmjow easily dodged to the side. The King looked to his men and shrugged his shoulders, giving them a look that said, "what have you been doing for the past two hours?"

He flashed an assured smile and stalked around the orangette, twirling his sword in his hand. Arms raised. Taunting. Open as he could be.

"Che." He sneered. "You call that a thrust?"

Ichigo scowled, eyes darkening with insult. He followed his slow stride, looking for a tell in the movements of his body, and then... swung again.

The blades struck and slid, the metallic ringing loud as they ground together. Ichigo grunted as they connected. And suddenly, he'd lost control of his movements. His blade was caught... Grimmjow dragging him up hard and fast, and close enough to nip and tug at his bottom lip with a row of sharp teeth before roughly shoving him back.

Ichigo winced, stumbling a few steps back till he regained his footing. He dragged his arm across his lip, an action less about taking away the sting than it was about trading one insult for another. His face was blazing with heat from the almost kiss. But he didn't have the luxury of throwing a fit about it.

Azure eyes were predatory now.

"Hah! A swing like that won't do shit to me!" His voice had dropped, grinding with excitement, the sound more a feral growl. "C'monnn, boyyy. Show me I haven't been wasting my precious resources on the likes of a simpering pup."

"Keh. When have I ever simpered?" Ichigo seethed back. He straightened, drawing his shoulders back and pulling his sword up into an offensive hold.

"I'll show you just how far I've come," he warned, blistering chestnut eyes full of lawless intentions that made Grimmjow's inner beast boil and writhe with glee.

In seconds they were lost in battle, the first test thrusts and suggestions from the King quickly forgotten as the tension rose inside the large courtyard. Grimmjow heard himself snarl as he parried a heavy hit from above with the flat of his blade, then attacked. And Ichigo growled and cursed as he was pushed back step after step, the burning in his arms driving deep into his muscles as he struggled to defend himself.

The heavy clash of metal rang through the courtyard for long minutes, until Ichigo, irritated to shit and breathing hard, dropped and spun, kicking out and catching Grimmjow's ankle enough to make him stumble. Then he shot forward and swung high...

...Nearly taking Grimmjow's head off in the process.

Only his agility had saved him from the bite of Ichigo's broad reckless swing.

He'd been relieved of his sword after that.

Vexed brown eyes travelled up along the endless blade of gleaming steel, his own hand and sword flat against the ground beneath Grimmjow's boot. He was panting heavily, exhausted for the moment. He didn't quite know how he'd ended up on the ground when he'd finally had the advantage, but he already wanted to go again. As his eyes found their way up to the owner of the blade, a crown of tussled, spiky blue hair and a genuine, sideways grin came into focus. Ichigo could only stare.

"Not bad... for a first timer." The King turned to go, calling out to his guards as he passed them by. "I know you didn't teach him that." He twirled a hand in the air as he left. "Again tomorrow, then."

He was just off the teat, at times green and wild, but he was good. Natural. With his own style. And he was going to get a lot better. Grimmjow had swelled with pride at the thought of such an adept consort, someone, who, if the need should one day arise, could fight along side him in battle. Not cower in the safety of the castle. He imagined it would be the death of him, though, as he'd be more inclined to protect his mate than himself.

It was relatively late in the evening when Grimmjow finally made it back to his room. He hadn't even realized that he'd come so close to kissing his student until it was over and he'd come down off his battle high. The thought of it lingered on his mind all afternoon and into the evening, the realization that he never really had a moment to savour his precious consort. It had just happened too fast, and he had barely had a taste of him, not nearly enough to swallow him down.

The thought left him unsatisfied, stirring up his hunger for the consort that by all rights he should have already enjoyed.

Grimmjow was hoping to have another crack at the kid, but he had to admit that the end of the day had brought a certain weariness with it. The sun had set early, dark clouds filling in the sky. A soft rain had set in, the constant whisper of it against the loose leafy vines that climbed up the walls of his castle and crept past his chambers, soothing against his mind.

As he entered the room, he looked to the couch. But it was empty. He glanced at the closed doors to the balcony, but he knew Ichigo wouldn't be sitting out in the rain. Was he in the bathroom then, he wondered.

Grimmjow walked across the expanse of lush carpet and slowed to a standstill.

Something was wrong with his bed.

Again.

But this time, the sheets were present. Everything was accounted for, and more.

Ichigo was in it. Rather on it. Sleeping as soundly as if it were his own.

He was on his stomach, wearing only his pants. After that...

Skin.

A map of faded scars across a soft sun kissed landscape. Nothing so grotesque as a knife wound, just the scrapes of rock and stick from the tussling of a fearless and well worn youth.

Things that would still fade with time.

Grimmjow's tongue flicked across dry lips.

Or, he could kiss them away.

He moved to the side and sat down, his weight heavy on the bed. It shook and the sheets rustled as he pulled off his boots, then his shirt. The younger man stirred and mumbled something incoherent, but didn't wake. Grimmjow stared for a long moment. He looked so peaceful, so at odds with the independent rebel Grimmjow knew him to be.

He stood and shrugged out of his pants, their usually loose fit now a little snug.

The taught skin of his naked body rising into tiny bumps from the cool air, he slid onto the bed and lay down next to his sleeping consort. He could only see him by the light of the candles and the fireplace. But it was enough to keep him from ever looking away. It slid over his skin like liquid gold, caressing the rise of his covered bottom and flickering over his shoulders.

The light, a seductress. It temped him, licking the sleeping young man's cheeks and soft parted lips.

But darkened azure were drawn back to the place the flame chose to leave untouched. The small of his back, dipping into the shadows, a curve that called to his instincts. A place he would caress with his bare hands as he X X X.

He held his hand out over the hidden skin, feeling the warmth rise from his consort's body.

It was curious and rousing. As if he could reach into the dark space and there would be nothing there. Until he was X X X.

God. He wanted to touch.

X X X

Ichigo turned from the balcony ledge he was balanced on and the book he'd been reading and watched with suspicion as Grimmjow entered the room and swept towards him with purpose. It was only mid morning, and Grimmjow didn't take a break until noon.

He wondered if Grimmjow was going to give him a hard time for falling asleep on his bed.

He hadn't meant to, of course. He just wanted to feel the comforts of a real bed for a few minutes, before Grimmjow returned. Turned out it was very comfortable. And it smelled nice too. The combination had made him feel oddly relaxed, at home, safe, despite how unsafe he should have felt. And odd because of the near blood lust he'd felt only hours before as they'd crossed swords. It was like he'd really been fighting for his life. The thrill of the fresh memory had washed over him as he lay on the bed and he'd burrowed deeper into the sheets. And the next thing he knew, he'd woken to the mid-morning sun, the fact that hadn't been alone evidenced by the strewn sheets beside him. Yet, he'd been left to sleep on, undisturbed.

The taller male slowed only long enough to grab the back of a wooden chair. He twisted it around and placed it on the floor just inside the room and gestured with his free hand.

"Sit."

Ichigo blinked at the chair. He gave Grimmjow a considering look, and with a frown, slid slowly from the balcony terrace.

Then he sat.

It was never Ichigo's intention to be belligerent without cause. He had no problem doing things that were part of a reasonable request. He just didn't think bending over and being X X X by a near stranger for a lark qualified as a reasonable request.

Ichigo watched Grimmjow begin to pace casually, and as his interest grew, so did his sense of foreboding.

The King of Hueco Mundo tapped a finger to his lips as he took a few strides one way and a few strides the other, before he finally stopped in front of the orange-haired youth and gave Ichigo his divine attention again.

"I have a very good reason why you should accept my request."

Ichigo felt his back slump. Of course. This again.

"You mean your order," Ichigo snorted, sound derisive and almost guttural. To emphasize his position, he folded his arms across his chest and straightened himself where he sat.

A muscle in Grimmjow's jaw tightened, and something impatient shifted behind his eyes before he gathered it all back and composed himself. It was that perpetual fire that almost made him want to get into Ichigo the most. He could feel himself stirring because of it.

He shrugged casually.

"Whatever."

He folded his arms, mimicking his stubborn consort, and then he waited in smug silence until Ichigo finally gave in and asked with a look of annoyance.

"So? What's your reason," he snapped, looking off to the side and grumbling. "As if it will change anything."

Grimmjow snorted at the childlike response, trying not to laugh out loud, and he had to take a moment to realign his thoughts. He had to hit him with logic. The kid didn't bow easily to his hormones... his urges. He'd been drawn to Grimmjow's bed for a reason. He had them, but he fought them. Like a warrior. It wasn't a specific dislike of Grimmjow. No. He simply didn't bow to anyone. And that little thought just made Grimmjow's body react even more.

"Precedence," he declared. Hard brown eyes shot back to him.

"What?'" Ichigo glared, suspicion and irritating flaring.

Grimmjow remained unfazed. Pretty much anything and everything that came out of Grimmjow's mouth in this conversation would be met with that. But he was a patient guy. Well... no, he wasn't. But today, something in him seemed to come alive. It seemed if it involved this orange-haired brat, he could deal. He could be as patient as a fucking tree. He didn't know how he could. He just knew he wanted to. As much as he was suffering with need after days of no touching, getting to be all over that body would be worth the wait. Grimmjow felt a grin spreading out, but he held it together for the sake of the point he was making.

He was being serious here.

"You owe it to your kingdom not to set a bad precedence."

Total bullshit.

"I... what?" Ichigo blinked, but said nothing else, baited and waiting for some kind of explanation.

"If you don't follow your King's commands," Grimmjow replied smoothly, voice silky, "then what do you think happens?"

Ichigo's brows lowered and he shrugged indifferently.

"I don't know. You throw me in the dungeon again as an example, I guess."

Grimmjow smirked. The kid acted like he didn't care. He was so damn brave.

"No. I don't. I don't do anything to you." Ichigo held his gaze, trying to look unaffected, like he wasn't as confused as he felt. But Grimmjow knew better. "I already said, I'm not gonna punish you again. I won't force you..." His azure eyes flashed, a warning that his patience had an end, "for now."

Ichigo stiffened, but kept up his silent glare.

"Knowing that, if you choose to be disobedient and you're not punished, and others find out, then you will be setting a very dangerous precedent for the masses. A ruler without power is not a ruler. A leader without respect, even less so. And without a King to rule and lead, our people will be lost and our fair city's walls will fall, Ichigo."

He saw the slow crest of understanding darken the brown eyes that looked warily up at him.

"Is it really worth it to be disobedient to your King? To think only of yourself and risk our way of life?"

Grimmjow leaned in and placed his hands on the arms of the chair Ichigo was sitting in, trapping him with his body as efficiently as with his words. He could hear his resistant consort's breathing quicken at his proximity, could smell his scent, natural and clean, like a stir of summer air over fresh cut fields, or a breeze off the lake after the rain. So, pleasant. He wanted to clear up the distance between them, but he kept his focus.

"And you and I both know that people always have a way of finding out these things, don't they Ichigo?"

Grimmjow watched smooth, beautiful lips part as the information was processed.

"So, you see... Ichigo...", he hummed, leaning in close enough that he could see the pulse of his neck just under his skin, "whether the kingdom falls into chaos or not... is up to you."

Grimmjow slowly took his hands from the arms of the chair and straightened.

Brown eyes had fled to the side, almost seeing sense in the words. It was tradition. It was law. Grimmjow was only a King if his people followed.

Without a King like Grimmjow to lead them, the city's walls would crumble and it would be conquered. And many a man, woman and child would die in the process. All because...

All because Ichigo wouldn't lay down for his King.

His consort remained silent, but inhospitable amber brown eyes had turned upwards. And Grimmjow felt scolded by them. Almost in defence, he folded his arms. He cocked his head, lips scrunching in distaste while he chewed on the inside of his mouth. After a moment of silently being turned to ash, Grimmjow swallowed a resigned sigh, expression flat, unsurprised.

"Still not gonna bite, are ya."

"No."

"Hn. Wanna sleep with me anyway?"

"No."