CHAPTER 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
"Come in!" Grimmjow shouted at his bedroom door as he reclined on the bed.
The door slowly opened, making him lift his head and peer at his visitor. Once he got a good look at the blue-haired man standing there, he quickly sat up and put down the book he'd been immersed in. An immediate sneer graced his lips as the man stepped into his room and shut the door behind himself.
"Being lazy as usual, I see."
"Fuck off, Eric," he growled in return.
"Tsk, tsk. Still as uncouth as ever. It's no wonder Father wants nothing to do with you."
"Excuse me for not lickin' his balls the way you have a habit a'doin'."
That statement drew the reaction Grimmjow had been expecting. No one but their father thought that Eric Jaegerjaques was perfect. Especially since the guy was anything but. The older man was scum as far as he was concerned. There was certainly no love lost between the two. Eric wanted the old man's position, while Grimmjow wanted nothing to do with it. However, there was no persuading Eric that his younger brother didn't have eyes for the throne. It was the cause of many a fight between them, but Grimmjow was used to it by now.
"Listen, you little shit!" Eric hissed, gray eyes glinting like marble. "I don't know what you're up to, but when I figure it out, you'll be miserable!"
Grimmjow frowned in confusion. Normally, he was able to follow his older brother's anger; this time, he was just lost. "What the fuck're you talkin' about?"
"What the hell were you thinking, skipping the wedding rehearsal? Do you have any idea what I had to go through to calm Father down? What the fuck were you up to? Getting drunk with your little friends again?"
Shaking his head, Grimmjow retrieved his book and looked away. "As a matter of fact, I was. I don' give a shit about yer fuckin' weddin'."
"You piece of-"
A knock at the door kept Eric from crossing the room and engaging him in another of their many fist fights. As it were, his brother had his lips peeled back from his teeth in a gruesome snarl, fists clenched tightly at his sides and nostrils flared wide. After a few seconds of nothing but harsh breathing coming from the guy, Eric turned to the door, eyes still wild as he obviously tried to rein in his anger.
"Who is it?" Grimmjow called cautiously.
The door opened without an answer, but when he saw who the person was, he relaxed. At first he'd been afraid that it was his father; instead, his cousin stepped into the room, long, flowing, sea-green hair trailing over her shoulders. She was smiling brightly like she always did, but once she spotted Eric, the smile abruptly faded.
"What are you doing here? Don't you have some ass kissing to do?" she asked.
Eric snorted and tossed his shoulder-length, blue hair. "Well, if it isn't the young harlot of the family."
"As if, idiot. You're just mad we're related, so you can't get any."
"Oh, sure that makes sense, considering I have a beautiful fiance."
"You mean that gold-digging slut, Cirucci? Good job, Eric. Nice catch," Nel said with a soft chortle as she sauntered over to Grimmjow's bed, no longer paying heed to the seething man.
"Watch your mouth! I know what you've been up to Neliel, so I'd tread carefully if I were you."
Grimmjow had had enough. Eric always used that same line whenever Nel cornered him and, frankly, he was tired of hearing it.
"Pick on someone your own size," he growled, sliding from the bed.
Eric arched a fine blue brow and scoffed. "Do you refer to yourself, dearest little brother? I accept that challenge."
"Grimm, it's not that serious. I don't pay him any mind, so neither should you. He's just miserable because no one likes him." With that, Nel turned to Eric, giving him her full, wheat gray gaze. "Why don't you go follow your daddy around?"
His brother started towards the bed where Nel was sitting, but Grimmjow edged around it and stood in front of her, back bristling and teeth bared.
"I dare you," he snarled.
Eric paused and his evil expression melted into a haughty sneer. "Really?"
Grimmjow didn't move, but he felt the subtle way Nel touched his elbow. It was her way of telling him that another fight with his moronic older brother was unnecessary, not to mention would backfire like hell. If Grimmjow fought Eric right now, Father would make it seem like everything was his fault.
"Just get out."
"And if I don't?"
"I don' have any problems makin' you."
Eric clenched his fists together again, teeth making an appearance once more. "Your mouth will be the end of you one day."
"Yeah, well, 'til then, I'm gonna keep runnin' it. Don' like it? Means fuck all to me."
Nel giggled, the back of her hand covering her mouth. Grimmjow, however, kept his eyes rooted to the menacing sight of his older brother. Eric didn't seem to be in a rational state of mind at the moment, which was fine and dandy. As long as the prick left his room.
"We'll see," Eric growled as he snatched open the bedroom door, only to slam it shut behind himself.
Grimmjow rolled his eyes and faced Nel with an exasperated expression. "I hate that asshole," he muttered.
Nel nodded. "I can see why. He's such a bastard."
"Yeah, well, we knew that part already. What're you doin' here anyway?"
"Oh!" Nel exclaimed, heart-shaped face brightening almost instantly. "I heard you – my favorite, bestest cousin ever – have found a new boyfriend. Is that true?"
He felt his eyes widen before he could stop them. "Who told you that?"
"Ohhhh, that's a secret." Nel paused, studying his face, then gasped dramatically. "It is true! Dish! Now! I want details!" she screeched, throwing herself back onto his bed.
He sighed and lowered himself beside her again, this time running an agitated hand through his wild blue hair. Who the hell had told Nel something like that? Furthermore, what exactly had been said? Grimmjow glanced over at his cousin and grunted. He hated when Nel got that look in her eye. It was like coming eye to eye with a hungry wolf. He also knew there was no way the nosy girl would leave his room without dragging every little bit of information she could glean from him.
Wearily, he sighed and lowered his eyes to his bare feet. "I don't have a boyfriend."
It seemed like Nel had been holding her breath because she stared at him for a few beats before exhaling forcefully. "What...the...hell? Talk about a buzz kill! Grimm, that was so anticlimactic. You can't possibly expect me to believe there's not more to that story."
"Well, it's the truth. I don' know where yer getting' yer info from, but ya might wanna check yer sources."
"Oh, bullshit, Cousin. Where there's smoke, there's fire. Now spill before I force it from you," she said sternly, huge eyes glinting devilishly.
"Nel, there's nothing to tell!"
"Liar. I see you wanna play hard ball. That's fine."
Her voice had deepened with her last statement and her body started slithering towards him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. Her fingers were crooked and her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth. Grimmjow jumped to his feet and danced over to his dresser.
"Alright, alright, alright!" he snapped, hands held up in surrender. "I really don't have a boyfriend, but...well, I did have a fling...sort of."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did you have sex?" she hissed conspiratorially.
He rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. "Why are you so fuckin' dramatic?"
"'Tis my nature," she drawled sarcastically. "Now, are you going to stop beating the bush to death and just tell me what the hell happened?"
"No. Yer gonna get out."
"Ahahaha! You know better than that! Now, who's the guy? Is he cute?"
"Nel," he growled in warning.
"Is he...big?"
"Oh God."
Nel cracked up, doubling over on the bed, while Grimmjow turned away from the sight and stalked over to the adjoining bathroom. As he stood in front of the sink, he splashed cold water over his face, his heart strangely beginning to race. Thinking about Kurosaki had been taboo since he'd confirmed the teen's identity as Gambit. What a mind-fuck that had been. And still was to be truthful. It wasn't the fact that Kurosaki had turned out to be Gambit – although that played a big part of it; it was the fact that he'd allowed himself to like the guy, believing he was someone else. It was annoying and frustrating. Shit, he found himself wanting to punch things a lot more often lately. Mainly Kurosaki. It was completely irrational, but it was how he felt. He wanted to take all his anger towards the stupid situation out on the orange-haired boy so badly.
He left the bathroom, another disturbing thought clinging to his brain. When he entered his bedroom, Nel was still lounging on the bed, the book he'd been reading in her hands. She looked up when he stepped from the lavish restroom, a confused scowl marring her brow.
"What the hell is this that you're reading?" she asked.
"I think the title's there already. Plus, there's this handy thing called a synopsis on the back."
"Smart ass."
"Well, you asked."
"What's it about?"
"Find out yourself."
Nel huffed and tossed the book down. "Whatever. I'd rather get back to what we were talking about earlier. You know, the topic you were studiously avoiding?"
"I don' wanna talk about it."
"That's too bad. Who's the guy? And did you have this fling at the Grantz's Halloween party?"
His mouth threatened to fall open in shock. Where had she heard that? And did she already know who he'd had sex with? If so, it was more than likely the news would get back to his father and that was unacceptable. If his father knew about what he'd done with Kurosaki... He shivered just thinking about it.
"It doesn't matter 'cuz it ain't happening again. OK? So stop askin' about it."
"That's rich. This guy must be a big deal if you don't wanna talk about him. You're always bragging about the dudes you do."
"Nel, just leave it," he growled as he took a seat at his computer desk.
His cell phone rested beside the PC's mouse, the screen dark, but a green light was blinking, indicating he had a message or a missed call. He picked it up and activated it, peering at it curiously. Maybe it was Ilforte.
Are you busy?
Grimmjow froze as he slowly registered the sender. He still had the guy saved as "Gambit", but there was no denying who had just sent him a text message. His hands started shaking of their own accord, heart jumping into his throat. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced over his shoulder at his cousin, who was still watching him carefully, elegantly arched green brows raised towards the ceiling. He whipped around and slid the phone into his lap as discreetly as he could. Fingers trembling uncontrollably, he tapped the screen and entered a reply.
Why?
He sent it off and waited with bated breath. What the fuck was Kurosaki contacting him for? They'd both agreed that forgetting about their one-night stand was for the best, so what gave? Not even ten seconds later, the phone buzzed in his hand.
I need 2 talk 2 u.
Grimmjow shook his head immediately. No way, he thought, panicking. They couldn't see each other now. It was bad enough he still liked the guy, but it would be infinitely worse if they saw each other again – aside from passing each other in the halls at school, which was hard enough – let alone spoke to each other.
A week had passed since they'd discovered one another's identities, and every time he'd passed Kurosaki in school, he'd avoided eye contact as much as possible. He'd been afraid that he would snap at the teen, or worse, hit him. But worst of all, he'd thought he'd slip up and do something to give away their secret. Kurosaki was still gorgeous, still as beautiful as ever, and the added remembrance of those soft lips and that toned body was enough to send Grimmjow into twitching fits of lust and desire. He couldn't help that his body wanted more of the boy, but his mind managed to keep him out of trouble. So far, it'd been working, even though he'd spotted Kurosaki giving him equally lusty glances as they passed each other.
Grimmjow swallowed harshly and tapped a response.
Not a good idea
What the hell was on Kurosaki's mind?
Warmth at his back alerted him to his cousin's presence, making him whirl in his seat and give her the meanest glare he could muster.
"What the hell're ya doin'?" he snapped.
Nel pulled back and held her hands up in a peaceful gesture. "I was just curious. I mean, you went all quiet and nervous over here, so I had to find out what was going on. Is that the fling that's not going to happen again? And is his name really Gambit?"
"God! Nosy woman!"
Nel cackled shortly before flipping a curtain of sea-green hair over her shoulder. "You say that like you didn't know that already."
"That's beside the point, Nel. This is kinda private."
"Mm, I gathered that much. I'll sit down...for now."
Grimmjow growled under his breath, mouth already forming a come back when his phone went off again. He stared coldly at his cousin as she grinned and sauntered back to the bed, taking her time to put her feet up and get comfortable. It was clear that she had no intention of moving. Shaking his head, he gave his attention back to his cell.
R u scared?
Lips pulling into a rabid snarl, Grimmjow automatically typed an answer to Kurosaki's taunt.
Fuck u
As he sat back and waited for the inevitable explosion, he allowed a small smile to tug the corners of his mouth upwards. Take that, asshole.
XOXOXO
"Onii-chan!"
Ichigo jumped sharply at the sound of his younger sister's voice. She had to be standing right outside of his room, but if she'd called him before, he hadn't heard her. He'd been too engrossed in his cell and the interesting conversation he'd been having with none other than Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Not that it was much of a conversation; it was more of a "my dick is bigger than yours" kind of confrontation. Via text message, of course.
He'd been bored and tired of watching his endless collection of anime, tired of piddling around with a few sketches, and tired of lounging in the bed. So, with nothing better to do, he'd sent the taller, blue-haired teen a text message. Honestly, he hadn't even expected a response after the way they'd parted a week ago, but when Grimmjow had replied, it had made a mischievous grin bloom across his features. Ichigo wished he could see the guy's face, gauge his reaction in person, but he'd settle for over the phone for now. It was all he had at the moment, and it made teasing the other boy a lot easier. He really didn't understand why he couldn't stop thinking about Grimmjow; it wasn't like the guy was that special.
Almost immediately he scoffed and rubbed a hand through his hair. Who the hell was he kidding? He'd learned to really like the boy underneath the hardened facade, even if he'd believed he was someone else in the beginning. That night at Skyline had been more than an eye-opener. It had only served to propel all the feelings he'd been hiding towards Grimmjow to the forefront. Now, he felt stuck. Paralyzed. Immobile. It was too late to ignore what had happened between them, too late to forget about all the informative text messages and animal-like attraction.
Fucking hell.
"Onii-chan! Dinner! Are you coming?"
Ichigo twisted his upper body towards the door of his room. "Yeah!" he called. "I'll be down in a sec!"
"OK!"
As he turned around, his phone went off on his desk again. Smiling, he lifted the device and peered at the message.
Fuck u
"Bahahaha!"
Grimmjow never failed him when it came to lacking in witty retorts. However, the guy cussed like a sailor on leave and refused to show an ounce of remorse or surrender. It was what Ichigo liked about him, not to mention everything else he'd learned about the boy. He could just imagine those full lips turned up into a fantastic sneer, those bright blue brows creased with anger. Ichigo snorted and entered his own response.
U did that already. Remember?
If that wouldn't get to the idiot, then nothing would. He tapped his foot and chewed his thumbnail as he impatiently waited for Grimmjow to reply. Was the behemoth red in the face as he tried unsuccessfully to come up with something to say? Were his large hands clenched into fists?
Possibly.
Definitely.
Ichigo jumped when the phone went off again, but this time his eyes went wide as he stared open-mouthed at the screen. What was Grimmjow doing? Warily, he connected the incoming call and lifted the device to his ear.
"Hello?" he answered, glad that his voice wasn't shaking.
"What the fuck, asshole?" Grimmjow's deep, gravelly baritone snarled over the line.
Ichigo couldn't tuck away his laughter. "Haha! What's the problem, Grimmjow? Can't stand the heat?"
"Why are you buggin' me?"
"Is that what you think?"
There was a brief silence before Grimmjow huffed in annoyance. "Yer a pain in the ass."
"Uh, no, I think that was you."
"Stop it!"
Ichigo cracked up, resting his head against the edge of his desk. This was too much fun. If he'd known it would be this entertaining to tease the blue-haired cretin, he would have done it a long time ago.
"Stop what, exactly?" he continued, feigning innocence.
"What the hell d'you want, Kurosaki?"
Ichigo shrugged, even though he knew Grimmjow couldn't see him. "I don't know. I was bored."
"The hell? Why don't you draw something, then?"
He paused, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. It made his lips tingle. Grimmjow's suggestion had only been more proof that he was truly Zorro, the boy Ichigo had told intimate detail after intimate detail about himself.
"I-I did for a while, but that got boring too."
"Where's yer little cronies?"
"Ha! Who, Szayel? He's out shopping."
"Eh? Pinky shops?"
"Yeah, surprising, I know."
The following bit of silence made Ichigo shift uneasily in his seat. What was Grimmjow thinking? Was he still mad? That last segment of their conversation had seemed almost...normal.
The other boy cleared his throat and Ichigo could hear the nervousness in the action. "So, is that the only reason you sent me a text?"
He frowned, unsure of what he should say. It almost appeared as if Grimmjow wanted his answer to be otherwise. "Um...yeah, I guess."
The boy grunted. "Oh."
Ichigo instantly felt bad. Why? He had no clue. But there was something in the other teen's voice that made his chest tighten and his stomach do funny little somersaults. "Why?" he asked.
"Nothin'. Look, I gotta go. Stop buggin' me, yeah? If yer bored, get a pet."
With that, Grimmjow ended the connection, but it left a bad taste in Ichigo's mouth. He felt like he'd done something wrong, but couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. He set his phone on the desk and stared down at his hands. Something strange was going on and he was going to find out what it was.
After dinner.
He stood, stalked across his room and snatched the door open, headed for the kitchen and the tantalizing smells coming from it. Although they had chefs galore, his little sister, Yuzu, insisted on cooking for the family every night and if the old man didn't make it to one, the younger brunet would sulk. It pissed Ichigo off when their father put business over family – which was most of the time – but mostly when the guy disregarded Yuzu's feelings. It was easier dealing with Karin, who didn't care either way what their father did. It was strange, though, considering she was Yuzu's twin. One would think they would have similar reactions.
Ichigo trooped down the large, winding staircase and cut to the left, entering the spacious, not to mention luxurious kitchen. As soon as he stepped inside, his bare feet padding over the polished marble floor, he set eyes on his dark-haired sire. The man still wore his office attire consisting of a crisp navy blazer, white dress shirt, and matching navy tie and slacks. There must have been something eating at the man because his jaw sported a scruffy five o'clock shadow and his hair was standing up on his head. His eyes were glued to a black binder filled with paper, a manila folder clutched so tightly in his right hand, the knuckles were white. There was absolute silence in the kitchen – aside from the slight clanking of dishes that Yuzu set on the long, wooden table. The old man sat at the head of the table, as was his custom, while Karin sat to his left. Ichigo's place was at his right, where the man could rule over him and make sure he was being groomed properly.
Ichigo slid into his seat quietly, trying to keep his father's attention away from him for just a little longer, but it wasn't meant to be. As soon as his ass hit the cushioned chair, the dark-haired man's eyes lifted and settled on him.
"How is school, son?"
He shrugged. School was school and the old man knew that. "It's cool."
"Pardon?"
Trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, he stared down at the empty plate in front of him. "It's fine," he gritted.
"Ah. What about your activities?"
Ichigo inwardly grimaced. If only his father knew that he was lying about being involved in student activities, he wouldn't have an ass anymore. Possibly not even a soul. "They're fine as well. What about you? How's the business?" he asked, carefully steering the conversation away from himself.
The man's eyes lit up, even while his expression remained the same. "Our stock has risen by five percent in the last two weeks and..."
Ichigo felt his eyes glaze over as he tuned out the voice of his father. He wasn't really interested in what the man was speaking of; he'd just needed a subject change. Now the man, Isshin Kurosaki, was off on a tangent, communicating via business jargon. A language Ichigo didn't understand and didn't want to understand, either. Luckily, he was granted a reprieve in the form of his little sister. She brought over large dishes of food, setting them onto the table, right in front of their old man. Isshin was a stickler about being served first. He'd been that way when Ichigo's mom had still been alive and he was the same now. The guy would never change and that went for everything he stood for. But that didn't even come close to how the true patriarch of the Kurosaki family felt. Ichigo's grandfather was a piece of work...and then some. His beliefs were set in stone and old as dirt, so it was more than obvious that Ichigo kept a lot of secrets. It was bad enough with his piercings and tattoos. If the old men knew what he wished to pursue as a profession, they'd lock him in a basement until he changed his mind. Or kill him. That would work too.
After Isshin was served, Ichigo went about serving his sisters and then himself. The dinner was a quiet affair, but the tension in the room hovered over the table like a storm cloud. Towards the end of the meal, Isshin's cell phone began clamoring noisily, vibrating against the table as well.
"Isshin Kurosaki speaking," he barked as he answered the ringing device.
Ichigo ignored the conversation, but couldn't look past the disappointment creeping over Yuzu's face. All he could do was inwardly throw a tantrum. It was all kinds of fucked up, this family of his, but it was the only family he had. Most of the time he just wished his mother was still alive to keep his father in line.
"I'll be right there." Isshin ended the call and rose from the table, smoothing the front of his blazer and adjusting his tie. "I'm going back to the office. Behave yourselves."
With that, the man swept from the kitchen, leaving nothing but the scent of Armani cologne in his wake. Ichigo curled his upper lip back and clutched his fork with a tight fist. He didn't even want to look at Yuzu, knowing she would be crestfallen and probably near tears. He did peer at Karin, however, and wasn't surprised in the least to see the indifferent expression resting on her youthful features. She took one last bite of her food, set down her fork and eased from the table.
"I'm goin' ta bed," she stated as she too left the kitchen.
With no other options, Ichigo turned to Yuzu, cursing his father for being such an asshole. Yuzu's eyes were filled with tears, but so far it seemed like she refused to let them fall. She slowly raised her head and met Ichigo's stare.
"I'm OK, Onii-chan. You should go and get some rest. I'll clean up here."
"Yeah right. And leave you with all these dishes? I don't think so, kid. C'mon, I'll wash and you dry."
Yuzu gave him a soft smile before climbing to her feet and beginning to collect the dishes. Ichigo did the same, heart heavy as he watched his little sister trudge around the kitchen. It was depressing how Yuzu seemed to be the only sibling affected by their father's callousness and harsh work schedule, but Ichigo had formed a method of comfort for her. Whenever Isshin left on business or whatever else kept him from his family, Ichigo would help his sister do the dishes the old-fashioned way. Sure, they had two dishwashers, but when they took their time and actually washed the plates and bowls and pans themselves, it gave them time to bond and connect. It was like therapy.
After the dishes were done, Ichigo walked Yuzu to her room before heading to his own. She'd put up a fuss when he'd teasingly asked her if she needed him to tuck her in, making him feel much better about leaving her to her own devices for the evening. She'd closed her door and he'd dragged himself to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. It was the only way he could think to release the anger bubbling under the surface. His father pissed him off so much, and the fucked up part was how there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He'd been making his way to his bed when he realized his phone was blinking. He frowned and slouched over to where it rested on his desk, wondering who the hell had called or sent him a message. He activated the screen and both orange brows shot towards his hairline. Oh really?
See, now I'm bored
Ichigo felt his face crease into his best Grinch grin as he slid over to his bed and made himself comfortable.
And whose fault is that?
He put one arm behind his head as he settled in, waiting for Grimmjow's reply. Maybe the night wasn't a complete bust after all.
Next time!