The last and final installment. The story was originally under Romance/Humor, but now I suppose you could throw it under Romance/Angst. Quite a difference, I'm sure. I hope you enjoy it, even if it isn't what most of you might have been expecting. Sorry for the disastrously long wait. –TPP
Don't Drop The Soap
Chapter Three: Prisoner For Life
"I'm gonna make ya ferget yer name," Shiro promised, licking blood off of Ichigo's chest as he continued to grind forcefully against Ichigo, "I'm gonna make ya lose yer mind with want. Yer never gonna wanna leave once we're done with you."
Ichigo stiffened, his eyes wide with fear as he saw shadows moving around the room.
Ichigo whined as he saw Nnoitra step forward, his smile demonic as he stared at the bleeding berry. A large black jumper shadow entered the cell, a creep, giant of a man named Kenpachi Zaraki.
Ichigo's heart stopped beating in his chest as the last shadow stepped forward, his grin absolutely ferocious as he approached Ichigo and Shirosaki, his face hovering over Ichigo as he screamed.
"Yer gonna love it," Grimmjow husked, grabbing Ichigo's hair roughly and running his tongue along the side of his face, "Yer gonna love it here."
XXX
Ichigo jolted awake, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as he tried to contain his panic.
That dream again. Why was it always that dream?
Ever since coming to Las Noches Penitentiary he had had multiple nightmares about being gang-raped, but this one was always the most horrendous.
"You awake?" Grimmjow grumbled from the top bunk, his voice somehow soothing in his distress. With all the connections Grimm had in the prison, it hadn't been hard for him to get his favorite bitch to share a cell. Gin, his second in command, had gladly moved to Ichigo's old cell, the one he had shared with Toshiro Hitsugaya. It had been extremely convenient for the two overwhelming lovers, but Ichigo was still trying to adjust to being with his protector nearly every hour of every day. They had grown closer as time went on, Ichigo's release barely a month away now, and Ichigo was actually struggling with the fact that he had actually developed fucking feelings for the hardened blue-haired bastard.
Whether Grimmjow returned any of those feelings was still a mystery. He was still gruff, still rough, but Ichigo had noticed over the course of the past couple weeks that he had become much more accommodating. When Ichigo was upset, Grimmjow would just snuggle up against him, and most mornings, he'd wake up to a kiss on the lips and nothing else. Fear of him had been thrown out the window over two months ago, however, Ichigo was reminded quite often how violent the con could still be.
Their relationship as lovers was like barbed wire.
"Yeah. I'm fine," Ichigo said automatically, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"Didn't ask how you were," Grimmjow shot back, suddenly jumping down from his bunk and staring in at the orange head. It was dark as hell, the entire cellblock cast in darkness until the six a.m. roll call.
"Whatever," he mumbled back, his body feeling like it was coiled and ready for flight. He was too tense to go back to sleep.
"Well, since 'yer awake…" Grimmjow trailed off, his body weight suddenly settling on top of Ichigo until he was forced to lay back again, "How 'bout I put'cha back 'ta sleep?"
Ichigo huffed in annoyance as Grimmjow's breath coasted over his face, right as his large tongue began laving along the side of his throat, down to his collarbone.
"Grimmjow, no, I'm still sore from last night…" Ichigo began, feeling anger build in his gut. Christ, hadn't he just woken from a rape nightmare?
Grimmjow growled deep in his throat, making Ichigo's spine tingle, "Aw come on, 'ya know I take care of 'ya. I treat'cha good, don't I?"
Grimmjow's question was met with silence.
"Don't I?" Grimmjow repeated darkly, palming Ichigo through his loose jumper.
"Christ, Grimm, get off," Ichigo begged, hands against Grimmjow's broad chest, "Please."
Grimmjow seemed to contemplate, which was rare for the blue-haired beast. Ichigo waited with bated breath, hoping that this would be one of the rare moments Grimmjow would show he could be human and honor his wishes.
"I ain't a fuckin' rapist," Grimmjow finally conceded, rolling onto his side next to Ichigo. Ichigo let out a small sigh. He rolled onto his side to face Grimm, moving his hand in the darkness to smooth over his face and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips.
"Thank you," he whispered, snuggling into Grimmjow's chest.
"Nothin' 'ta be thankful for," Grimmjow said gruffly with a hint of pleasure, "You'll make up for it tomorrow, ne?"
XXX
"Ah! Shit! Nnnghf," Ichigo bit into his own wrist to quiet his screams, Grimmjow far from finished with him. He had promised Ichigo that he would make up for it later, and he sure as hell was now.
"Look at'cha, covered in 'yer own cum, screaming like a bitch. Just sick," Grimmjow murmured, rotating his hips as he found Ichigo's prostate again and jabbing against it quickly, "Fuckin' cum slut. I'm gonna fill 'ya up 'till 'ya explode with my cum."
The sick, demeaning dirty talk went straight to Ichigo's dick. Before, he would have been ashamed at the talk and his reactions, but now it was engrained in his body and his mind. He arched his back right off of his coat, the metal springs protesting the weight and force of Grimmjow's powerful thrusts.
Grimmjow dug his nails into Ichigo's hips as he slowed, focusing on burying himself as far into the warm heat as possible, making Ichigo grunt at the sudden blunt force of his thick cock being buried so deep.
"You want it?" Grimmjow hissed into Ichigo's ear, drawing back and pushing forward with a hard snap of his hips, making Ichigo scream, "Ya want me 'ta fuck 'ya until cum comes out 'yer eye sockets?"
"Y-yes," Ichigo gasped, his hands buried in Grimmjow's thick blue hair. It was growing much longer now, nearly reaching his mid-back. Ichigo was just as turned on by the blue hair as he was by the sinfully gorgeous con's body. He practically hummed in pleasure as he felt his own inner muscles tighten dangerously around Grimmjow's hot cock, waiting for his lover to lose his load, "Gimme it. Gimme all of it, Grimm."
The sultry dirty words was enough to make Grimmjow hiss out a breath and slam into him repeatedly, drawing Ichigo's legs up over his shoulders. Ichigo let out another wild yell as Grimmjow grunted, finally releasing deep inside Ichigo, making Ichigo shake like he'd been zapped by a stun gun.
In that blinding moment of white light, Ichigo knew that this, whatever this was, was enough.
The post-coital bliss lasted much longer than usual. Instead of Grimmjow getting up and tidying himself up before passing out on his own mattress, he actually stayed by Ichigo's side, running his hands along Ichigo's sweaty chest, over his abdoment, over his hip, as if memorizing the flesh he had come to know so intimately over the course of a year.
"Ya go home soon," Grimmjow finally murmured, his hand finally stopping over Ichigo's rapidly beating heart, "What'cha gonna do once 'yer outta this hell hole?"
Ichigo didn't answer right away, instead enjoying the feeling of Grimmjow's rough hand over his frantically beating heart, "Don't know. Go back to school, I guess."
More silence before Grimmjow shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable in the confining space, his hand now resting over Ichigo's flat belly, "Then what?"
He sounded genuinely curious, which made a small smile appear on Ichigo's lips. Was this the true lover's pillow talk he'd heard so much about in the outside world? Ichigo barely remembered the outside world now.
"I don't know, Grimm, what most people do, I guess."
Grimmjow snorted, "We ain't normal, Ichi."
Ichigo couldn't help but snort an agreement before thinking seriously, and it kind of depressed him a little, "Meet a girl. Settle down. Have a couple kids. Watch them grow up while I grow old myself. Play some golf, maybe watch my diet. Then I die, I guess."
"Sounds boring."
"It probably will be," Ichigo conceded with a smirk before turning to face Grimmjow in the darkness. It was still too dark to really make each other's features out, but Ichigo knew what was there: a proud forehead, chiseled cheekbones, searing blue eyes, a strong jaw, "but what else is there?"
Ichigo knew Grimmjow shrugged, "All I know is if I had a chance of gettin' outta' here, I sure as hell wouldn't settle down. I'd never be restricted by four walls again."
Ichigo huffed a laugh, "I wanna eat a pizza. A giant-ass fucking pizza covered in mushrooms and green peppers."
"Ice cream," Grimmjow replied, his voice deeply serious, "I'd get fat on ice cream. I'd buy a truckload of it."
"Always wanted to travel. Australia, Egypt…"
"America…"
"Germany…"
"Fuck Germany," Grimmjow growled, sinking his teeth into Ichigo's shoulder before licking the wound in apology, "my old man was from Germany."
In all their time together, this was the first time Grimmjow had offered up any information about his past, especially his family. Of course Ichigo knew most of the crimes that had landed the drug-pushing murderer in here, but he'd never even once talked about his family or even confirmed if he even had any.
It was a revelation that was genuinely touching.
"Was he a prick?" Ichigo asked in experimentation.
Ichigo didn't expect Grimmjow to snuggle against him, his chin resting on top of Ichigo's head. They were both disgusting, covered in each other's fluids, but neither minded in the late hours, the coldness basking them in a peace neither could find with anybody else.
Ichigo was nearly asleep when Grimmjow answered, "He was just like me."
XXX
Ichigo stared at the clock in the mess hall. He had hours until he was cleaned up and ushered out of here to the warden's office, where they would process him and finally set him free.
Only a handful of hours, and he already knew what he was going to do.
He'd been staring at a fellow inmate for a good twenty minutes, assessing him.
He wasn't a Soul Reaper, but he was under the protection of a head Soul Reaper.
Ichigo ran his hand over the small, rusted blade in his jumper pocket, a blade he'd had to practically sell his soul to get his hands on.
Apparently that dream had meant something to his subconscious. He'd had to give himself to the demon Shirosaki while the sick bastard Nnoitra Jiruga watched to get his hand on this blade, and with Grimmjow none the wiser.
And that was what had truly hurt: knowing he had had to betray Grimmjow to get his hands on a weapon, a weapon he wouldn't have been able to get otherwise.
Grimmjow had no idea what he was about to do, and he was thankful that Grimmjow was currently on the other side of the mess hall, already sitting down at a table and eating, waiting for his lover who was currently standing in line for some food.
The short, slender bitch that belonged to Tousen was only a few people in front of him.
He was weak. Sickly. This would be easy, and then they would have to keep him. He would be a murderer, a dangerous murderer and he'd have to stay here forever.
Ichigo looked at the clock one more time before moving forward a step, hand still in his pocket, intent on his kill.
The moment he went to withdraw the blade, Ichigo felt a cold grip on his wrist, staying him.
"Na, I wouldn' do tha'," Ichimaru Gin said silkily, knowing perfectly well what Ichigo's intentions had been, "Not a good idea, lil' brother. It won't be pretty, not for anyone."
"Let go," Ichigo whispered heatedly, knowing he was going to miss his opportunity if he waited any longer, "I have to do this."
Gin's smile nearly cut his face in half, his eyes completely hidden, "Ya need 'ta be free, Ichi. Even if it's just for a lil' while. Don't throw it all away."
Ichigo felt himself calming at the snake's words, even as he looked across the mess hall to stare at blue hair.
The moment the blade left his jumper pocket in Ichimaru's fingers, looking like it disappeared into thin air, Ichigo felt empty.
XXX 6 YEARS LATER…
"Did'ja here?"
"Na, what'cha talkin' 'bout?"
"They sent Him here."
"Who's Him?"
"They say he's bein' moved 'ta the Hollow Ward. Too dangerous."
"…The Tensa Killer…"
"Ya heard?"
"Who the fuck hasn't?"
Grimmjow ignored the endless chatter around the cell block, not interested in what the fellow criminals had to say about their newest recruit.
He was supposedly Karakura's most notorious serial killer in recorded history. His death toll had been well into the double digits before he allowed himself to finally be caught.
Gin had kept him informed about the different rumors, but the most popular was that the creep wore a strange white bone mask with red scratches on the side every time he made a kill. What was even more crazy was the weapon he used to kill his victims: Grimmjow had snorted thinking there were modern day samurai running around. The kid killed with fucking swords called zanpakuto.
One of their most recent convicts, a scared little bitch by the name of Hanatarou, had been terrified to even talk about him. Said he was becoming a legend due to his brutal killings, and his even more macabre calling card: a jawbone.
Every victim the killer took was found with an animal jawbone at the scene of the crime.
Grimmjow smirked: had to give the kid his credit, he knew how to fucking make a statement.
"Well ain't this interestin'," Gin said with his ever-present grin, staring at his longtime cell mate and best friend. They'd gone back to being cellmates after Ichigo's release a little over six years ago, although he still got plenty of time with his lover Toshiro. Grimmjow had taken to fucking the psychopath from the Disturbed Ward, a young albino by the name of Shirosaki. Grimmjow had always been wary of the freak, but when Ichigo left, he'd just looked so much like the orange head Grimmjow hadn't known what to do with himself.
"Just another monster," Grimmjow replied.
XXX
The Tensa Killer was brought to his solitary cell in full body shackles, the four guards rounding him into the cell with automatic weapons and tasers. The bravest one unlocked the metal connector chains, although his hands and feet were still restricted from decent movement.
The collar was removed from his neck and he smirked at the guards as they slammed the bolts into place.
"Get comfy, Tensa, 'cuz 'yer not goin' anywhere," one of the burly guards said.
Ichigo read his nametag passively before he cracked his neck and stared at the lowly guard like he was a child.
"So, Ganju, tell me…" the demon said, leaning against the cold metal bars, his bright orange hair a fiery mane down his back, his piercing brown orbs boring into the guard as he revealed surgically-filed teeth, "who's the shut-call around here?"
The guard flinched at the killer's predatory gaze before replying, "I'm sure if you play nice, you'll find out soon enough. Can't believe the warden's willin' 'ta let 'ya out after a couple months of good behavior."
The demon smiled pleasantly, rattling his chains slightly, "Oh I'm good at waiting, pig. I waited six years 'ta see him again. A couple'a months ain't nothing."
The guard hit the bars with his nightstick, trying to gain back a sense of control. The killer simply stared back at him, the black, gray, and white jawbones that were tattooed across his neck and collarbones clashed brilliantly with the brightness of his hair and paleness of his skin.
"Shut the fuck up, Kurosaki."
XXX
About a week later, Grimmjow was smoking quietly with Gin in the rec room.
"So my connect told me somethin' interestin' the other day," Gin started conversationally, blowing smoke out of his nostrils as he smiled widely at Grimmjow.
"Oh yeah?" Grimmjow replied, not really caring. Grimmjow didn't pay much attention to Gin's little network: he had his nose in most guards' business, so he was an asset when Grimmjow wanted something, but the only thing Grimmjow had been craving for the past six years was outside of this hell on earth. Kurosaki was probably soaking up sun on some beach somewhere. At least Grimmjow had been daydreaming of that scenario lately. Fucking Ichigo in the sand while they listened to the waves crash on the shore was one luxury Grimmjow knew he would never be able to afford. It stung.
"Yah," Gin said, stubbing out his cigarette while slitting open one eye, "The newbie, the serial killer with tha' jawbones. Don't'cha think it's a bit coincidental, Grimmjow?"
Grimmjow shrugged, "Maybe the ass hole's German."
Gin snickered until Grimmjow punched him in the shoulder.
"Ne, fine, I won't tell 'ya then."
"Fuck you. Tell me," Grimmjow said, lighting another cigarette as his friend smirked like a hyena.
"So my boy said he's got this bright, orange hair..."
THE END.
I'd really appreciate some reviews! Now to catch up on my other stories that haven't been updated in a fucking year… -TPP
