AN: I was really pumped after reading the first few reviews...
Also, I believe a reviewer pointed out that Ichigo plays drums and sings... I thought I'd do that because my dad sings and drums and it looks really cool. (In some ways, Ichigo really reminds me of my dad...)
I will try to respond to all reviews!
Chapter Two - Bad Ideas
Franz Ferdinand - No You Girls
Ichigo woke in an unfamiliar bed.
It certainly wasn't the first time. Before his life had become intertwined with Shinji's, he never really slept with anybody twice in a row, unless he forgot their face and met them in a bar again. After an ocean of alcohol, everybody's body looks insanely attractive. Ichigo wasn't one to admit his flaws, but even he had to say he was a slut in his sexual salad days. He wasn't loose, he just couldn't say no. Thankfully, Shinji had been able to cure his addiction before it spiraled out of control and he was left a sex-craving homeless man under a park bench.
Now, here he was, with two thoughts jumping around in his already pounding skull like angry kangaroos.
My ass in in an astronomical amount of pain.
And.
Shinji is going to find out and kill me slowly.
The entire situation dawned on him like a ton of bricks as he took the scenery in - the handwritten note on the bedside table, the empty dent in the mattress next to him, the smell of dirty sheets.
He had just cheated on Shinji. Shit. He took a silent oath to never consume that much alcohol again. (At least when that sexually frustrated.) While last night had been spectacular, it left him feeling repugnant and inexperienced. This... this... blue-haired man had popped his proverbial, anal cherry. Someone he had never met before yesterday had taken one of his firsts.
Ichigo tried to collect his thoughts but only found himself ramming his clenched fists against the oak headboard behind him. If he just quietly left before the blue-haired man came back, nobody would notice. It couldn't be that late...
The bedside clock proclaimed him wrong with its bright green, cubic lettering: 1:01.
What? WHAT?
Using the bed as a catalyst, Ichigo sprang upward from underneath the sky blue sheets to what he presumed were his clothes. They went from being a crumpled mess on the floor to a crumpled mess on his body. After lacing up his Sauconys, he gave the note a wary glance. The dreaded One Night Stand Note. Feeling he didn't have anything else to lose, he snatched it up. Ichigo snorted at the chicken-scratch, which was only somewhat legible once he squinted his eyes.
I stepped out for a bit.
(xxx) 842.9025
Grimmjow
Oh, yeah. Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows and carelessly shoved the paper in his pocket without a second's hesitation. His name was Grimmjow. Ichigo adjusted his pants as they were slipping off of his hips with each step he took. These pants were awfully baggy. They also seemed a different shade from last night. Shrugging to himself, he dismissed it and left the house.
::::
Bombay Bicycle Club - Sixteen
As Ichigo opened the door to the house he, his boyfriend, and his band mate were staying at, he realized that these pants were, in fact, not his own. As if destiny wanted to rub salt in the wound, the aforementioned two were seated next to each other with serious looks on their faces.
When Ichigo made eye contact with Shinji, he felt guilt wash over him instantly. He swore the blonde could see the heat from his blush rolling off of his body.
When Ichigo made eye contact with Renji, he could tell that the redhead knew. He supposed it was fairly obvious when Grimmjow ran out of the building, his strong hand firmly wrapped around Ichigo's, and even more so when he noticed the blip in Ichigo's wardrobe.
Ichigo sent psychic messages to Renji and only hoped that he would receive them.
"Those pants..." Shinji pointed out. He wasn't one for pleasantries.
Panic filled Ichigo, but he managed to sputter out a lie. "Last night, I spilled beer all over myself." He glanced at Renji before continuing. "Renji happened to have some clothes in his trunk, so he let me borrow them." He sat down next to Shinji, whose eyes were less doubtful after hearing the total lie. Their fingers interlaced and they smiled. As much as Ichigo loved a good lay, he couldn't complain about the way Shinji shyly took his hands in his. He had missed this. Last night, while it had been hot, had been so cold. A familiar warmth coursed between their palms and Ichigo smiled at Shinji.
"You do smell kind of musty." Shinji replied, sighing. "Did you do well last night?"
"Rocked it. Wish you had been there." Maybe I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess.
"Oh, Ichigo, before you l-, uh, while you were changing pants drunkenly in my car... I found a bassist." Renji murmured hesitantly.
"Sweet!" Finally, something to distract him! Ichigo turned so he could make eye contact with Renji, who seemed busy with looking everywhere but at Ichigo. "Can I meet him?"
"Well, um, I invited him over. He should be here soon."
"Is he good?"
"Yeah, he let me listen to some of his stuff on his iPod, but then he had to go. He's completely free. Got nothing to do. He's willing to tour with us and write bass lines for all our songs. Or, at least, as many as he can."
"Fuck yeah." Their manager, Toshiro, might actually crack a smile. He had been on their asses from the beginning to get a bassist. Hopefully, this guy would meet the standards.
The three sat there, only talking when the silence became too much to handle. Shinji and Ichigo exchanged words about Shinji's latest job drama and the weather, while Renji only interjected to ask if they wanted some coffee. Ichigo said yes, while Shinji said no; he had orange juice earlier. At some point (Ichigo couldn't say when,) Shinji had laid his head down on Ichigo's shoulder. He had nearly had a heart attack. Ichigo wondered why, of all times, that Shinji was being affectionate now, especially with the occurrences of the previous night still looming overhead like ravenous vultures. However, he chose to not question it and just let his mind focus on Shinji's deep breathing, which was starting to sync with his.
It was a perfect moment, that is - until fate knocked on the door hard and loud.
"Oh, it must be him." Renji set the coffee pot down, coffee sloshing along the sides, and sprinted over toward the door. He unlocked it, opened it an inch, paused, and then swung it open.
Ichigo's eyes were assaulted with orange plaid, bright blue hair, and a pair of equally blue eyes.
"Ichigo, Shinji, meet Grimmjow, our bassist."
An "oh shit" silently formed on Ichigo's lips as Grimmjow's eyes glued to his and Shinji's interlocked hands.
::::
"What the fuck, man. What. The. Fuck." Ichigo hissed at Renji, now that they were in a room alone.
"Ichigo, seriously, I didn't know. I talked with him before you two..." Renji shook his head in disappointment. "Y'know, I don't know why you're yelling at me. If you could've just kept your dick in your pants-"
"What do you think I've been doing?" Ichigo threw his arms up in exasperation while flames danced behind his pupils. "Fuckin' Shinji won't give me the fuckin' light of day when it comes to down-" He pointed to his crotch. "-Here, but now that I've gone and let some other guy stick his dick in me, he's all over me like some teenage girl? This is some fucked up shit. Fucked up shit." He stressed the last three words like a death threat.
"Ichigo, stop saying 'fuck.' You're making me uncomfortable."
"Fuck you, Renji." Ichigo sneered. "Let's just tell him to go on his way."
"Ichi, you don't even know how good this guy is! He's a god. I swear, Ichigo, I swear to whatever is up there." Renji pleaded, his hands clasped together in a position usually reserved for praying. "Just give him a chance. You can just tell him to forget about it."
"Forget it? Renji, honestly, even if he forgets it, I won't."
"Then get him to keep his lips sealed." Ichigo wished away the perverted images that invaded his minds upon hearing Renji's choice selection of words.
"I'll try, I guess." He muttered, scratching the back of his head.
::::
Vocaloid (Len) -Spice
"Hey, Ichigo?"
"Yeah, Sunshine?" Ichigo continued to use the adoration-soaked nickname. It made him feel like he hadn't done anything wrong - like they were a normal couple (save Ichigo's rising career and Shinji's piano key smile.) Ichigo spoke those eight letters with such tenderness that a nun's prayer seemed calloused in comparison. The nickname acted as a good luck charm, a mantra to soothe his boiling soul. Mostly, though, he was afraid he would slip up and call Shinji the other name - Grimmjow.
"... Nevermind." Shinji shook his head back and forth softly as if he moved with any more force, his head might roll off of his shoulders. "It's just..."
"What is it?"
Ichigo walked over to Shinji and wrapped his arms around Shinji's frail, thin waist. He had forgotten how delicate Shinji was: like a mirror. His hazel eyes had the ability to reflect the core of your very soul and if you made the wrong move, he would shatter, along with your reflection.
"That Grimmjow guy. Is it just me or...?"
"What?" Ichigo's body froze around Shinji's.
"He looked, frankly, pissed."
Ichigo bit down on his bottom lip and pressed his cheek to Shinji's softly. "Some people can't help but look angry all the time, Shinji. Remember how I used to be?"
Shinji emitted a slow sigh. Ichigo focused on how it felt when Shinji's lungs filled and collapsed beneath his hands. "It scared me."
Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows. "Hmm?"
"I just thought that maybe... Well, with the way he was looking at us."
Ichigo swallowed hard. God, this secret - mistake - whatever you want to call it was tearing his conscience to pieces. He was getting more and more paranoid by the minute.
"I thought he was a homophobe."
Ichigo's eyes widened in relief and fright. He chuckled throatily, earning a scowl from his boyfriend. "Oh, Shinji! I'm sure he wasn't. Y'know, I bet Renji even told him so he would be shocked."
Shinji sighed again, this time in total relief. "I was so worried!"
"You have nothing to worry about, Sunshine." Ichigo lied straight through his gritted teeth.
::::
The Red Hot Chili Peppers - Easily
Ichigo inhaled sharply, mentally and physically preparing himself for the oncoming tornado. It was time for the first practice with Grimmjow. He had to keep from staring at Grimmjow's impeccable figure, the toned muscle of his arms, the shit-eating grin he had displayed so openly in the bar bathroom...
Shit.
He really needed to stop. This was so utterly, completely wrong. Not even the wrong that felt good. He felt absolutely disgusting when he thought about Grimmjow and it wasn't even the guy's fault! This was all riding on Ichigo's shoulders.
With one last swipe across his pant leg to wipe off any visible dust, Ichigo stepped into the garage that the owner of the house had so graciously let them use.
"I feel like a teenager in here!" Renji smashed a cigarette with his heel before plugging in his guitar. "What, are we in tenth grade again?"
Grimmjow just stood there with his arms folded over each other, eyes boring into Ichigo's with judgement dripping from his jet-black pupils. "Ichigo, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with you after practice. It won't be long."
Ichigo gulped and forced a smile that he felt looked more like a fish-face. "Sure." The less words he spoke, the more control he had over his wavering voice.
"Let's start!" Renji impatiently patted the face of his raggedy, brown Tesco. It had scratches all over, each one holding a different gig and story. A black Fender precision bass rested against Grimmjow's abs. It looked like he treasured it - it had not a blemish in sight. That or he was all talk and never played.
Ichigo was quickly proven wrong.
They had asked Grimmjow to play "a 'lil something" for them. He immediately launched into a bass line that Ichigo didn't recognize at first. It was steady and funky. It was a few measures before Ichigo recognized the song.
"AY!" Renji exclaimed while he observed Grimmjow's dancing fingers. "You're not bad, Grimmjow!"
"Is that...?"
Grimmjow halted. "Easily." He licked his lips and sipped the PBR can he had set next to his amp. "Red Hot Chili Peppers." He cocked an eyebrow and looked at Ichigo with that same look - the one that he had on when Ichigo walked in the garage.
Renji and Grimmjow bumped fists while Ichigo sat awkwardly behind his drum set. He tapped nervously on the snare with his fingers.
"You rocked that." Grimmjow beamed at Renji's compliment.
"Pretty good." However, he did not at Ichigo's.
"Let's get started, shall we?" Renji grabbed a forest green pick and plucked out the riff slowly to get a taste for it. "Ichigo, let's play him an easy one. How about Mother Of Roadkill?"
"Okay." After witnessing the confused expression that surfaced on Grimmjow face, Ichigo helpfully added: "It's not actually called Mother Of Roadkill." He flipped a drumstick and caught it before it touched his thigh. "It's called Bible Belt."
"Mother Of Roadkill is much more fitting. That's all that's in the Bible Belt - gas stations, rednecks, and roadkill. Not to insult, Grimmjow."
His nostrils flared for but a moment. "I get it, it's cool." He was most definitely restraining himself. Perhaps underneath that blue hair dye, he was also a ginger?
Ichigo tapped his drumsticks together three times above his head and they launched into a musical frenzy.
After the set, they were all sweating. Grimmjow had gone through a few cans, Renji had smoked only two cancer sticks, and Ichigo had made the effort to stay away from the Pabst that had been giving him the bedroom eyes all evening.
"You know you want me." The can said seductively, its contours sexier than any ass he had ever seen.
"Oh, yes, I do want you." Ichigo licked his lips as he imagined it hitting his tongue. The cold beer rushing down his throat. The aluminum pressed against his chapped lips.
"Uh, what?" Grimmjow growled angrily.
All possible retorts got caught in Ichigo's windpipe. "Uh, I definitely wasn't talking to you."
Renji paused uncomfortably and just left the room with his gear not even set up. Ichigo would put up the guitar and amp after... gulp... dealing with Grimmjow.
"Yeah, okay." Grimmjow let the almost pick up line roll off his back, but the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise. "Anyways, we need to talk, Ichigo," The way he said his name sent electric tingles through his dick. Jesus, shit, Christ.
Ichigo didn't quite know what to say.
"If you had just told me that you had a boyfriend, back there in the bathroom, I wouldn't have kept going."
Ichigo averted Grimmjow's blue gaze while regret filled the pit of his stomach. He was extremely happy that Shinji was out buying groceries at this particular juncture in time. "Do you know how hard it is to refuse sex when you're so drunk you can't spell drunk and you have a raging hard-on?"
"That's not a good excuse. I'm sorry I tempted you, but it's still not a good excuse."
Ichigo's eyes ghosted over Grimmjow's godlike body and he shivered at the memory of touching it. It had been like a brick wall, not uncomfortable though. Like a comfortable brick wall, if that makes sense. Of course it doesn't make sense...
"I can't tell Shinji."
"I don't give a shit if you tell him or not. It just can't happen again." Grimmjow toyed with the hem of his black v-neck in a way that was almost sinful. "I don't wanna be your fuckin' mistress. I want you like hell, but I don't want to have to sneak around people's backs."
Woah. What?
Ichigo had just been reintroduced to bathroom Grimmjow - the one who let go of all restraints. His speech got lazier as he got angrier, and it made the hairs on the back of Ichigo's neck stand up straighter than soldiers.
"Okay...?"
Grimmjow smirked wider than the Cheshire Cat. "But, ya know. If you ever decide you want to bump off that blondie of yers, ya know I'll be here." And with that, he left.
AN: Ugh, I'm sorry that this chapter jumps all over the place.
Okay, and seriously? 100+ hits and less than ten reviews? Please, guys, I'm dying here.
Stay tuned for next time. And always, thanks for reading.