Sorry for the wait! I just got myself a wake-up call. Well, here's the next chapter!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. NOTHING, I TELL YOU. Only my little plot.
Chapter III
Ichigo was in his room, well, his closet specifically. Clothes were strewn across the floor in a mess as he struggled to find something suitable to wear for the night's dinner with Grimmjow. Nothing seemed to work. He'd been at it for almost two hours. He would find something he deemed worthy, wear it for ten minutes, then run upstairs to change. The process would continue on for hours.
Looking at the clock, he cursed under his breath when he saw he only had two hours left. He had already showered, but he knew he was bound to take another after sweating from hunting after clothes and running up and down the stairs.
"Damn, what the hell!"
"Is there a problem, Kurosaki?" a voice asked from his doorway.
Ichigo spun around to see Uryuu standing there, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
"How the hell did you get in here? Ah, nevermind. Don't care right now." He turned away and continued to rummage through the insane amount of clothes he had. They were all designer, all nice clothes. The other day, he would have told himself he had too many nice clothes. Today, he felt he didn't have enough.
He heard footsteps behind him and Uryuu spoke up, "I'm guessing you're going on a special date tonight? With the way you're acting, it must be important."
Shit, he totally forgot to call Uryuu and tell him about Grimmjow. Besides, he'd never believe him, anyway.
All he did was grunt in reply. He picked up another shirt, gave it a disgusted look, and threw it to the side.
"Move, Kurosaki." Uryuu pushed him back and quickly plucked a dark purple button-up shirt from its hanger and a pair of black slacks, handing them to the orangette.
"What the hell, Uryuu? I'm not wearing that!" he exclaimed, looking at the outfit before looking at the raven.
"Yes, you are. One, you need color, but nothing too awfully bright, so this dark purple will suit you just fine; a contrast to your hair. The sleeves are a nice mid-length that will cuff at your elbows. The pants, as I've seen, hug your... behind, and thighs. Wouldn't want to be wearing baggy pants. Here. Put it on, I don't want to see you in this room again."
"But I have to take a shower."
Uryuu arched an eyebrow and glanced over at the bathroom in the hallway, seeing clothes that were kicked to the side, indicating he had already taken one.
Ichigo explained. "I'm taking another one. After hours of running around, I'm sweaty again. Yuck."
The raven rolled his eyes and headed for the door. "Fine, but I want you out of this room right after. That outfit is perfect. Trust me, Kurosaki."
After he left, Ichigo sighed and took the clothes into the bathroom with him. He turned on the water and let it heat up as he stripped from the outfit he previously thought was a good idea.
Getting into the shower, he exhaled, having a chance to relax under the warm spray since Uryuu had saved him time. He realized he never told the other who his date was. Would he even believe him? Probably not. Uryuu was also a little fan of the bluenette, and often accompanied Ichigo to shows. Although, he wasn't really the type to show his excitement, it was still a blast. And when Uryuu couldn't come, he would take Rukia, Orihime, or any of his other friends, even if he had to drag them along.
He took his time lathering the cinnamon scented shampoo into his hair, rinsing after a quick massage to his scalp. The headache that had been threatening to ruin his night disappearing with every minute spent washing himself. At least when he met Grimmjow for the evening, he would smell extra clean.
He rinsed himself off and turned off the shower before stepping out. A knock sounded on the bathroom door and he rolled his eyes.
"I wasn't even in there that long, what the hell!"
"Kurosaki, you were in the shower for an hour."
"What?!" he exclaimed and hurriedly dried himself, nearly tripping on the rug and falling against the door. "I'm coming, just...fuck!"
"What time do you have to be there?" Uryuu asked.
"Seven-thirty. But I'd love to be there like five minutes early."
"Then you still have half an hour. You can calm down."
Ichigo heard his footsteps retreating and he sighed in relief. Grimmjow didn't live far away, anyway. It was walking distance.
He pulled on his pants, then slipped into the button-up. It was really a nice shirt. Uryuu was usually the one to go clothes shopping with him, since he was the fashionista. That guy could actually sew. A guy. Sewing. The first time he heard that, he laughed his ass off, angering the raven. Uryuu wouldn't talk to him for a week after that.
He made sure his collar was straight and fixed his cuffs. His hair was already done. He always let it dry on its own after shaking his head to get rid of some of the water. Gel products or sprays were unnecessary for his hair, since his hair fixed itself naturally. It was always quite soft to the touch, which surprised most people.
Checking himself once over in the mirror, he gave himself a satisfied smile and opened the bathroom door and made his way to his dresser to grab his keys. He stood for a moment and checked off things to do in his head. Everything was taken care of.
He ran downstairs after grabbing black ankle socks and heeled boots, plopping himself on his couch to put them on. They were his favorite boots. The heel wasn't much, only two inches in height. The top of the boots barely reached mid-leg below his knee and they hugged his calves with their flexible material.
"Well?" he asked Uryuu, who had been sitting in the chair opposite him. He stood and pulled his shirt down to straighten it as much as he could, earning a warning glare from the raven.
"Good. But don't tug on that material, it's expensive. Working as a writer will only get you so far, Kurosaki."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm leaving now."
"Wait. I came here for a reason. I wanted to know if you would be busy tomorrow."
Ichigo thought it over. "I don't think so, why?" he asked.
"I'm having an interview at the local designer store. They want me to bring someone to confirm my answers."
"Well, that's stupid. I've never heard of anyone doing that before." Ichigo began walking towards the door, grabbing his black trench coat on the way since it would be chilly. Uryuu followed. "But I suppose I could go, waste time and all that."
"Hey, Kurosaki. Who is it that you're meeting?" Uryuu asked and pushed his glasses further up on his nose.
"You'd never believe me," Ichigo said and couldn't help but smile a little.
"It couldn't be anyone that great. You were acting so wild when I arrived, I would have thought it was Mr. Jaegerjaquez."
Ichigo didn't look at him, only grinned mischeviously as he locked the front door.
"Kurosaki... It couldn't-"
"I told you! You don't believe me, do you? Heh, figures."
"If you get a picture with him and show it to me, then I will believe you. But, until then, good luck with your date." Uryuu shook his head and walked in the opposite direction towards his home, only two blocks away.
Ichigo immediately took off down the street, running past people to get to Grimmjow's place. His nerves were already acting up, his heart pounding in his chest. Today had probably been the longest day of his life, considering he had to wait so long for the date. He was glad it was finally happening. The girls were going to kill him...
Making a turn around the same corner he had last night, he made his way to the large doors and walked in, looking over to see Shuhei. The man looked up from his computer and did a double-take at Ichigo.
"You again? I thought he had thrown you out."
"You guessed wrong, Shuhei. Just so happens he wants me again. I'll be going up now," he said in a tone of finality and headed towards the elevators.
"I'll be calling Mr. Jaegerjaquez later to confirm your visit." Shuhei gave him a smug grin and he had to refrain from smacking that look off his face.
The elevators were clear this time and he thanked Kami. He hardly had the patience to wait any longer. The ride felt like forever and he wasted his time by checking out the inside, wondering if somewhere there were hidden cameras and Shuhei was secretly watching. Pfft. He really hated that guy.
The doors finally opened and he stepped out, turning to walk down the hallway he had been down last night. If he remembered correctly, it was room 202. Of course, how could he forget?
Before knocking, he listened quietly, waiting to hear the man playing. A few moments passed, yet nothing happened. Shrugging, he lifted his hand to knock, wishing he could have heard him once more.
The door opened and it was like last night all over again. The man just...it was impossible for him to not be gorgeous.
He wore slacks that were similar to his own and a white dress shirt that had the first two buttons undone. The sleeves looked like they had been rolled up, probably due to him preparing food.
"Ichi," he said, grinning. "You made it."
"Of course!" Ichigo smiled back shyly. He could smell the delicious aroma of steak and his mouth watered, his jaw hurting. Grimmjow stepped to the side and motioned him in, closing the door behind him. Ichigo removed his coat and Grimmjow took it to hang it on the coat rack by the door.
"That smells so fucking good!" Ichigo immediately placed a hand over his mouth, glancing over at Grimmjow apologetically for cursing. The man just laughed at him.
"No need to be sorry, Ichi. Cuss all ya want, I don't care." He placed a hand on Ichigo's upper arm and lead him to a separate room that held the kitchen and a dining room. Nothing spectacular, but it was still pretty amazing to Ichigo. He couldn't really concentrate on the details anyway, not with that strong grip on his arm. They haven't even started dinner yet and he was going to go insane.
"Sit here. I'll bring out the food." Grimmjow pulled out a chair for him and Ichigo was brought back from his thoughts. He then realized the dim lighting, shadows dancing along the walls from the few candles that were placed on the center of the table.
"Wow..." he whispered to himself. He sat down and waited patiently for the bluenette.
Yeah. Wow.
Here he was, sitting at Grimmjow's dining room table, waiting for him to bring dinner. A romantic dinner. With Grimmjow. His long time obsession. A full night and a day to think about it and he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he was having a nice dinner that Grimmjow cooked... with Grimmjow.
"I hope you don't mind wine," Grimmjow said from beside him. He was so deep in thought, he didn't see Grimmjow place a plate of food in front of him, leave, and come back with a bottle of what looked like a dark, ruby red wine.
"Oh, th-thank you. I love wine," he said, mad at himself for stuttering. He loved wine, but it wasn't often that he drank it, let alone try different flavors. His favorite so far was a simple Merlot. Nothing drastic. Besides, the last time he had wine was at Rukia's birthday at a fine restaurant.
Grimmjow studied him for a moment, and smirked. "Let me rephrase that. I hope you don't mind expensive, rare, delicious wine."
Ichigo rolled his eyes and replied, "Yes, Grimmjow, I love wine."
The man grinned, picking up his glass and filling it halfway. He repeated with his own glass and set the bottle off to the side before taking a seat across from Ichigo, who picked up the glass by the stem and took a small sip.
His eyes widened at the taste and he decided it was delicious. It had a fruity taste that he liked, and it was like silk going down, the warmth spreading through him. The smell was fresh on his nose.
"You like it? It's a Merlot from Italy. Castello Di Ama L'Aparita; 1997. Currant, blackberry, dried flowers and ripe tannins."
Ichigo took another dainty sip, watching Grimmjow from above the rim of the glass. The bluenette was also watching him and he felt himself heat up; either from the look in Grimmjow's eyes or the wine, he didn't know.
"But, enough about the wine... I want to get to know you better."
Ichigo set down his glass and picked up his fork. "What do you want to know?" he asked, taking a bite of the delicious steak that had been cooked medium-rare. Grimmjow seemed to be in thought for a few minutes, pondering his question while Ichigo worked on downing his wine.
"What do you do for a living? Cliche, I know. I'm just... how do you write so well?" Grimmjow took a bite of his own food and watched Ichigo.
"I'm a writer. I do freelance and office work."
"Is that how you swept me off my feet with your writing skills?" he asked with a grin.
"Swept you off your feet?" Ichigo asked, smiling. His cheeks were tinted a light shade of red, glass of wine empty. Grimmjow knew he was getting tipsy.
"Ichi, Ichi. I thought you could hold your alcohol?" he teased, earning a glare from the other.
"I said I loved it. I didn't specify whether I could handle it or not." Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Besides, it just looks like I'm a bit tipsy. Don't be fooled, though. I blame you."
Grimmjow's eyes widened. "Me?"
"Yes, you. You're just so damn... fiiine," he said and chuckled. Grimmjow knew better. Ichigo was getting drunk, and all from one glass of wine. Well, it was a strong wine, after all.
Ichigo set down his fork and relaxed against the back of the chair, half of his plate eaten. "Anything else you want to know?" he asked with a slight slur to his words.
"Yeah. Are you okay to walk home?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"A serious question, Ichi."
Ichigo gazed at him from across the table, wondering what the hell he was talking about. He couldn't really concentrate, his mind a little hazy.
He pushed back from the table, getting ready to stand. Grimmjow saw it and stood first.
"Stay there, Ichigo. I'll get you a glass of water."
"No, no. I'm fine." He stood from the chair and immediately his head began to spin. The bluenette rushed over and caught him before he fell over.
"No more wine for you," he said and helped him out of the dining room and to the couch where he sat him down. "Don't go anywhere, you hear? I'm gonna get ya some water."
Ichigo nodded and sank into the soft couch pillows beside him. They felt so soft...
He tried his hardest to think. So, he was at Grimmjow's house, that was obvious. He was there to have a nice dinner, then go home. Tomorrow he had to do something... but he couldn't quite remember what he had planned. Was he even going home tonight?
Ichigo caught a glimpse of Grimmjow emerging from the kitchen with something in his hand. Sitting up, he reached out for the glass that was handed to him. Looking at it, he figured it wasn't wine, but it was something. He took a sip before handing the man the glass.
"It will be here for you." Grimmjow set the glass on the table. He felt a hand on his arm and he turned to see chocolatey eyes gazing up at him almost innocently.
"Grimm... play something for me," he asked. "I want to hear you play."
Grimmjow bit his bottom lip, glancing over to where his piano sat by the window. He contemplated playing for him, then shook his head. He couldn't... not yet.
"Some other time, Ichi." Hearing him play once was a coincidence, but he wasn't ready to play freely for him just yet.
Ichigo's eyes slipped shut and he sighed.
For so long, Grimmjow waited for the day he would meet the person who wrote such beautiful words. And here he was... an innocent guy. A gorgeous one at that.
Ichigo's breathing slowed and he unconsciously curled into a ball, shivering slightly.
"Huh, cold..." Grimmjow turned and disappeared into his room, coming back out with a small fleece blanket. He kneeled by the couch Ichigo slept on and placed the blanket over him, making sure his feet were covered after removing his shoes. Maybe he should turn the heat up? It was a bit cold.
He sighed and studied Ichigo's sleeping face. Dinner had been quick, but it was something. Who could argue with this? The orangette's soft features, pink lips...
He reached out with a hand and gently caressed Ichigo's warm cheek, the skin soft and tan. He smirked.
"We just met, and already..." he trailed off, letting his fingers travel to his bright orange hair. His fingers slid easily through the silky strands and he was surprised at how soft they were.
Ichigo groaned, a small smile touching at the corners of his lips as he slept.
"Ichi..." He leaned over him, his lips grazing his temple. He laid a kiss there and pulled away. He stood from where he sat crouched and went back into the dining room to blow out the candles that were still lit. He disposed of the uneaten food, cleaning up the mess before exiting the kitchen and dining room.
With one last longing glance at Ichigo, he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.
-...-
Oooommmmgggggg... 7AM, I am going to bed! I will come back and fix a lot later on. But thank you for reading, I really appreaciate it! *hugs*
