Disclaimer: Bleach and it's characters do not belong to me - and that fact makes me cry. Often.

Chapter Seven

Okay, without a shadow of a doubt, this is the most awkward, potentially dangerous situation I have ever found myself in. The tension surrounding us is so palpable, so thick, I can't breathe properly, and I know it's only a matter of time before something gives – or, probably more realistically, before someone snaps.

I can't see Shirosaki's face, but from the way that Grimmjow's currently stabbing holes through him with a particularly icy glare, and the fact that I can feel a low, rumbling growl vibrating against my shoulder, I just know that the albino's giving it back as good as he's getting it.

Fuck me, what in the name of holy good hell have I gotten myself in the middle of?

Shirosaki's arms are curled in a tight embrace around me, the long limbs soaking through my t-shirt as the torrential rain continues its assault outside. I know if Grimmjow wasn't so clearly pissed – and in the middle of some sort of epic glowering match – that he'd be ripping my alabaster friend a new one for sullying the interior of his car. But, as I said, it would seem that the blunette is much too engaged to care about something so trivial. Go figure.

"Snowflake, ey?" Shirosaki commented, amusement evident in his echoic tone. "Hn, I ain't heard tha' one since grade school. If I remembah correctly, tha' last guy tha' called me tha' ended up breathin' through a straw…"

I only just managed to repress a shiver at the pure malice intended in that statement. Even though Shirosaki's tone was light and playful, I've known him long enough to read between the lines. He's always been like that, taking immense satisfaction out of antagonising others.

Shirosaki may look harmless enough, especially when you consider his outwardly vivacious, almost peppy demeanour. But that was undoubtedly his greatest weapon. It was like the famous Lady Macbeth quote; 'look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under't'. That's exactly what Shirosaki was; a wolf in sheep's clothing. He was a master at lulling people into a false sense of security, before dropping the guise and unleashing a whole world of pain on his unsuspecting victims.

No one ever sees it coming.

I'm not saying that I don't feel that Grimmjow can't look after himself, because I know he can. But then again, he's never met anyone quite like my oldest friend before, and I really don't want to be around if the blunette decides to officially challenge the psychotic albino. It would surely be a bloodbath of fucking grand proportions, and I refuse to play 'maiden' in the fucking middle – or clean up their mess when they're done. Fuck that shit.

Of course, Grimmjow didn't back down from the 'subtle' threat Shirosaki issued, instead a dangerous glimmer flashed through those stunning cerulean orbs and he smirked. Fucking smirked. Ah Christ, here we go…

"Oh really?" he drawled, his own deep baritone doing nothing to shield the dark malevolence dripping into every word. "Poor guy. Though, I always did find it exceptionally easy wailin' on snot nosed brats. Wonder how ya'd fair up against someone a little older? Y'know, someone who'd actually provide a bit of a challenge…"

I'm sorry, what? Is Grimmjow seriously provoking him into fight…right here?

Shit, this is getting out of hand so much quicker than I would have thought possible.

"A lil' older?" Shirosaki asked in clear scepticism, making my heartbeat escalate wildly. "C'mon Grimmjaw, jus' who're yah tryin' ta fool? If I wanted ta beat on some decrepit old-timer, I'd jus' go call in on mah old man."

That's it, we're fucked. I can get away with calling Grimmjow 'old' because, well, I can make it up to him with sex – and even then it doesn't always play out that way. If even I'm not exempt from the extremely fragile grasp he has on his potent fury, then you can bet that Shirosaki's about to eat fist. Possibly me as well, seeing how I'm in the way. Damn it all, I'm going to end up with a broken nose because of that fucking albino's mouth – and it wouldn't be the first time, either.

With all this in mind, you can imagine my surprise when, instead of parrying out of the way of an alabaster-skin-intended punch, I hear loud, barking laughter.

Furrowing my brow at the unexpected noise, I'm admittedly a little pissed. I mean seriously, what the fuck? If that had been me calling him old, I'd sure as hell be paying for it in some way, shape or form – whether it be dodging a blow to the face, or having a monstrous cock shoved down my throat. So why, in the name of all that is just, does fucking Shirosaki get away with it? Right now he's undeniably Grimmjow's public enemy number one, and hence should be guarding himself from a barrage of physical abuse even without the added insult.

Fucking Grimmjow and his messed up logic.

"Shit, kid," Grimmjow managed to choke out at last, his laughter dying off to small chuckles. "Ya got balls, I'll give ya that much. Still, this 'old-timer' could very easily kick your scrawny ass right into next week, so I'd watch that goddamn mouth a'yours before I smack it clean off, ne?"

I could feel Shirosaki bristling behind me, whether it was from anger or excitement I couldn't be sure, not without seeing his face at any rate. Not to say that my albino chum is a masochist or anything, but he revels in pain, and whilst fighting his motto's always been, 'the bloodier the better'. It doesn't matter if he's winning or losing, you can expect that the sadistic fucker will be having a whale of a time until the bitter end.

"Now, how's about ya be a good little albino and unhand my Berry there," Grimmjow continued, his blazing blue eyes now locked on the arms holding me tight against their owner.

I could feel Shirosaki pulling me closer in retaliation, a soft giggle pouring from pale lips. "Berry, ey? An' 'ere I thought yah hated tha' name, aibou?"

Grimmjow growled, probably for the endearing nickname so casually slipped in at the end, and I rolled my eyes. "I do hate it. And that's exactly why he calls me it."

I shot a glare at Grimmjow, who simply grinned lewdly in response. "He loves it really, Snowflake. Ya just gotta use it in the right…situation. Like, for instance, when I'm balls deep inside of him, fuckin' 'im hard and fast into–"

"Grimmjow!" I snap, furious that I'm now blushing madly in front of my oldest friend. "Shut the fuck up, you damn prick! I'm sure Shiro doesn't want to hear any of that – and neither do I for that matter!"

Shirosaki cackled, and I just knew that the next words out of his mouth weren't going to be particularly good ones.

"Ne Ichi, there's no need ta be so embarrassed," he cooed, his mouth a little too close to my ear for comfort. "After all, I jus' so happen ta know firsthand what yah like ta hear when yer bein' pounded inta tha mattress…ain't tha' right, King~?"

Oh Jesus H. fucking Christ, being psychic is a goddamn curse sometimes.

I can feel my cheeks flushing even redder, the heat damn near unbearable as I drop my face into my palms. Was I a real bastard in a past life or something? Did I rape women and kill newborn babies? Because really, there is no other acceptable excuse for my life to be so fucking cruel to me.

Predictably, Grimmjow is suddenly furious, and half of that livid irritation is aimed straight at me. So unfair.

"Is that right," he states rather than asks. "Hn. Ya sure kept that one quiet, Kurosaki."

"It was a long time ago," I quickly defend, the suddenly ominous air within the small confines of the car crushing down around me, suffocating the oxygen in my lungs. "You know what it's like in high school, teenagers exploring their sexuality and all that jazz…"

"What did I tell ya about lame ass excuses, Berry?" Grimmjow demanded, his eyes narrowing to slits. "I don't wanna hear 'em."

"But Grimm, you don't–"

"Give tha poor man a break, aibou," Shirosaki suddenly piped up, cutting me off. "Yer gonna give 'im an aneurysm, tryin' ta make 'im remembah as far back as high school."

"Shut up," I hiss, punching awkwardly at his still drenched arm. "You're not helping."

"Tell me, Grimmjaw…" Shirosaki continued like he hadn't heard a word I said. Tch, guess it was foolish of me to even think he'd listen to me. "How's it feel ta kiss these lips," he grabbed my jaw, causing my mouth to purse slightly, "knowin' tha' I was tha one who taught 'em how ta move?"

I felt my eyes bugging out of their sockets at that, whereas Grimmjow was deathly calm. I know the man pretty well, and that is definitely not a good sign. The eerie façade of tranquillity simply means that there is far too much poisonous rage flowing through his veins for him to move at the moment. And of course, Shirosaki just couldn't take the hint and keep his fucking trap shut.

"But tha' ain't all, is it aibou?" I could hear the malicious smirk in his voice. "Yah may have this yieldin' lil' body all ta yerself now, Blue, but how it must gall yah ta know tha' it was me who taught it how ta purr…"

It was the tiniest, most imperceptible of movements, but I caught it; a quick glimpse of Grimmjow's right eye twitching. The man was losing it.

"What, ya really thought I imagined Kurosaki some delicate little flower still holdin' onto his virginity when I met him? Don't make me laugh, Snowflake," Grimmjow snarled, the sound so bestial, so dangerous, it gave rise to goosebumps all over my body. "Now, don't make me repeat myself… Let. The brat. Go."

"An' if I refuse…?" came the hostile response.

Unfortunately, Grimmjow didn't miss a beat. "Then I'll force you to by removin' your arms altogether."

And, just like coiling a spring too tight, I surprised us all by snapping first. There's only so much of feeling like a juicy hunk of meat caught between the jaws of two ravenous wolves I can take.

"Alright, that fucking does it!" I barked, forcibly extracting myself from Shirosaki's sodden grasp to pin both quarrelling morons with a heated scowl. "I don't know what in the hell ever gave either of you the impression, but I am not some damsel in distress! If you two want to duke it out on the side of the road like a pair of dogs over a bone, then be my guest – but leave me the fuck out of it!"

There was a long moment of confounded silence, though honestly, it didn't last nearly as long as I would have liked.

"Ne aibou, there's no need ta get so angsty," Shirosaki commented loftily as he yanked his hood back up and playfully ruffled my hair. "We're jus' havin' a lil' fun!"

Grimmjow looked momentarily stunned at my outburst, before quickly gathering himself together. "Damn, Kurosaki. Way to be melodramatic."

"Melodra–" Where they fucking kidding me? I grit my teeth, only just resisting the urge to strangle both men to within an inch of their fucking lives. "What the fuck ever. Move it Shiro, I'm getting out."

Grimmjow quickly grabbed my wrist, preventing me from getting far. "C'mon Kurosaki, lighten up."

"Fuck you, asshole," I retort, trying – and failing – to snatch my wrist back. "I refuse to participate in your little game of 'Ichigo tug-of-war'. You and Shiro can bicker away to your hearts content – fuck it! Beat each other to a bloody pulp for all I care! But I'm going home."

"Oi," he tugged hard on my seized wrist, sending me sprawling across the centre console. "Fine, have it your way – but I know ya don't think you're gettin' away without a goodbye kiss."

I blink, astounded that he could even think about such a thing at a time like this. Then I remembered that it was Grimmjow, and that about ninety percent of his daily thinking was done by the head of his cock.

"Piss off! You got one already!"

"Actually, it's been a lot more than one, Berry," he smirked, his eyes darting briefly to gaze behind me.

And suddenly it all made sense. The damn dick didn't want a goodbye kiss at all, all he wanted was the opportunity to openly display his authority, to fucking dominate and lay claim to me right in front of Shirosaki, then that way there would be no questioning my 'ownership'.

Well, if that goddamn, blue haired bastard thinks that I'm going to play into his twisted game of 'Who's Ichi's Alpha?', he's got another think coming.

"Yeah…thanks, but no thanks," I state, straightening myself back up.

"Funny, I don't remember askin' your permission." Another tug, harder this time, sees me pulled half into the smirking blunette's lap. "It wasn't a request, Kurosaki. But it's damn cute that ya thought ya had a say in the matter."

I glare at him, curling my lip. "You fuck–"

I get no further as Grimmjow descends upon me, his lips forming perfectly over my own to swallow down any protest I might have had. Quickly forgetting my anger and indignation – not to mention the fact that we have company – I find myself reluctantly melting into the smug jerk.

I can hear Grimmjow growling in approval when I part his mouth with my tongue, diving in for quick taste before his own wet muscle curls around it, forcing it back into its home as his hastily pursues it.

Damn him to hell. He does this every time, thinking he can shut me up and get his own way just because he happens to be a fucking fantastic kisser. Probably doesn't help that I let him get away with it every time because of that very fact, but oh well. A large, callused hand grips the back of my head, forcing it back so that he can lean in and deepen the contact. I don't complain.

My mind is a jumbled blur of mixing thoughts and emotions, none of which can seem to organise themselves so that I know what I'm supposed to be feeling – that is, until Grimmjow's tongue licks across the roof of my mouth, and his sharp teeth nip at my bottom lip, in which case lust quickly makes itself known, squashing down all the others without much fuss.

I thread my fingers through those beautiful, electric teal locks and, even though there's a little voice in the back of my head trying desperately to attain my attention, I lean up into my lover, suddenly craving a lot more contact. Sweaty, frantic, and skin-on-skin, preferably…

"Ahem."

My whole body freezes at the none too subtle cough, and I mentally kick myself for falling straight into Grimmjow's conceited trap.

With faint blush assaulting my cheeks and the bridge of my nose, I hastily draw away from the now visibly irritated blunette. Dropping my gaze to the floor so as to avoid both sets of penetrating gazes, I hastily mumble my thanks to Grimmjow, a brief farewell to Shirosaki, and then more or less bolt from the car.

Dashing the short distance through the rain to the main lobby of my apartment building, I absentmindedly turn to wave Grimmjow off, only to witness possibly the most disturbing sight I have ever observed – Shirosaki clambering into Grimmjow's car.

My eyes widen comically when, instead of seeing Shirosaki forcibly tackled from said vehicle, the car simply pulls away and disappears down the street.

Okay, what the hell?

Fearing that I'm going to have to check the news tomorrow for the cold-blooded murder of hotshot model Ogichi Zangetsu, or psychotic slaughter of business tycoon Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, I merely shake my head in exasperation and make my way upstairs. If anything, I'm going to need at least a good nights sleep if I'm ever going to look presentable enough to stand up in court…

I didn't see nor hear from either Grimmjow or Shirosaki until late afternoon on Friday, which was worrying to say the least. Not so much in Grimmjow's case, because I know he's a busy man and has a wife at home to keep complacent. I am 'the bit on the side' after all, and, no matter how much I'd like to believe otherwise, I'll always come second to the man's actual life. To be perfectly honest, I was somewhat surprised I got to see the blue haired demon two days in a row like I did. We're usually lucky if we manage once a week, let alone two days consecutively. Hn, maybe I should make the man jealous more often…

Shirosaki on the other hand, I was shocked he wasn't round here damn near every day, like I assumed he would be. In a way, I was a little miffed he didn't show his alabaster face, but I have to remember that he's a busy guy too. He's probably off getting trashed at glitzy parties and waking up with all kinds of beautiful strangers in high-priced hotels. Che, lucky prick. I really shouldn't be offended that I'm being ditched for a fast life of champagne, glamour and one night stands, but I can't help it. He's my oldest friend, dammit! If anyone should be monopolising his time and attention whilst he's got it, then that individual should be me!

Ah great. Now I sound like a needy, neglected girlfriend. How wonderful.

I'd guess it to be around four in the afternoon as I jump in the shower. I had one this morning before my morning class, but with a severe lack of anything better to do, another one couldn't hurt. Renji has actually decided to act like a normal, earth dwelling being for once, and has taken Rukia out on a date. I know, I was flabbergasted too. They came home briefly to change – well, more so Renji, as one can expect to find the redhead covered in grease and oil stains at any time of the day due to his mechanics course – and ever since their departure, I have been bored out of my freaking tree.

After such a hectic start to the week, the remainder of it has been so disappointingly mundane. Uni was normal – well, after Shihōin-sensei threatened that if I missed another one of her classes she'd make sure Urahara made us wear booty shorts to work…again – and hence, after much pleading not to do something so unbelievably cruel, work was normal too. Everything has been so achingly routine that I find taking two showers in one day to be something of a welcomed change. Sad, I know…

As the hot water torrents down over my body, quickly warming my skin and making me want to moan out loud in relaxation, I fail to notice the sound of the bathroom door opening. I didn't lock it, because no one else was in, and I certainly wasn't expecting anyone. So when a cold hand suddenly caresses up my back, I can do nothing to hold back my startled, rather emasculating yelp.

Without a second's hesitation, I quickly pivot and throw out my right fist. Fuck the fact that I'm completely naked and soaking wet, if some perverted fucker wants to try and take me on in my own home, then you'd better believe I'm going to give it all I've got – clothes or no.

My fist, however, is promptly caught by a milky hand, inches from embedding into a smooth as marble jaw. My own jaw slackens at the sight I'm faced with – which just so happens to be a very giggly, very nude, Shirosaki.

"Ey, aibou. Tha' any way ta greet yer dearest friend?"

"'Dearest friend' my ass! You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!" I splutter, trying my damnedest to keep the embarrassed heat I can feel rising in my neck from pooling in my cheeks. "What the hell do you think you're doing, anyway? I'm trying to take a shower here!"

Shirosaki grinned, making a show of roving his eyes over my equally nude form. "Aye, I can see tha'…"

I set my jaw and promptly turned my back on him. "Good. Now piss off."

"Awh, don' be like tha', Ichi. I've missed yah," the albino simpered, draping his arms over my shoulders so that he was pressed flush against me. I swallowed hard, willing my blood flow to stay its regular course. "I called out ta yah, but yah didn't answer. Then, when I heard tha shower goin', I thought I'd make up fer not bein' around more by jus' joinin' yah."

"What have you been doing, anyway?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the fact that we're moulded so intimately together.

"Meh, nuthin' an' no one of any importance," Shirosaki replied, his tone bored and indifferent. He nuzzled his face into my sodden hair and pulled me closer. "Why? Did'ja miss me too, King? There's no need ta be so bashful, aibou, yah can jus' come right out an' tell me~"

"Fuck off," I retort, but with no real heat behind my words. "I actually thought you might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere after I saw you get into Grimm's car."

"Pfft, don't make me laugh," he stated haughtily, nipping at the shell of my ear in what I'm sure was supposed to be a reprimand. "We jus' had a lil'…chat, ta establish some ground rules. Tha's all. Ol' Blue may think he's a big, bad tiger, but 'e ain't nuthin' more than a harmless lil' kitten with a sour attitude."

"Grimmjow? A kitten?" I ask incredulously, tilting my head back to look at him. "Are you sure we're talking about the same man here?"

"Heh, yer so cute Ichi," Shirosaki dismissed, softly kissing my neck. "Pass me tha body wash there, aibou."

I did as I was told, cringing when I noticed that it was strawberries and cream scented. Predictably, Shirosaki giggled, but thankfully didn't comment as he popped the cap and poured the sweet smelling lotion into his hands. I hummed in contentment as he began massaging it into my shoulders, his talented fingers kneading into my skin and working the soap into a thick lather. It's amazing how quickly you forget you're in an awkward position when your body feels like its slowly liquefying.

"Y'know, Ichi," Shirosaki purred, his hands slowly working down my back. "Yah never did tell me jus' how you an' yer lil' blue haired kitty came ta be. Y'always said it was too long a story… Well I've got tha time now, if yah'd care ta enlighten me?"

I tried my best to stay focused enough to hear what he was saying, but it was damn hard what with the warm water of the shower caressing down my front and Shirosaki's frankly wonderful hands rubbing the kinks from my back. I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed – without needing a good, hard fuck first, that is.

"Me and Grimm?" I mumble, my words coming out a little more breathy than I'd care for.

Shirosaki chuckled, his hands now ghosting over my hips, rubbing small circles over the protruding bones before trailing over my abdomen. I could only hum in encouragement. "Aye, you an' Grimmjaw."

I frowned, bringing up something that had been bugging me for a while. "It's pronounced jow, Shi, not jaw."

"Maa, don' yah start on me an' all," the albino groused, his fingers pinching my midriff, making me wince. "Yer precious kitten's already told me off fer it, but I can't help it. Jus' rolls off my tongue tha' way." When a hot tongue laved against the nape of my neck as if to emphasise his point, I fought tooth and nail not to moan out loud. "Now, tell me tha story, aibou. I wanna know jus' how ol' Blue managed ta sink 'is devious talons inta mah innocent lil' Ichi-King."

Ignoring the insulting comment of my apparent 'innocence', I shrug. "I don't know why you wanna know so bad, but if it'll get you off my back, then fine, I guess I'll tell you."

"An' 'ere I thought yah liked me on yer back," Shirosaki purred, amusement evident in his echoy voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Ha, ha. You're so fucking funny, Shi… Just shut up and listen."

Friday August 14th, 2008, Vizards, 11:17PM

I don't think I'll ever forget the day that I first saw him. I don't want to say that I'll never forget, because a) it sounds so fucking cliché it makes me cringe, and b) you never know, I could get hit by a bus in the near future and contract amnesia. Highly unlikely – I hope – but entirely possible. God seems to like to fuck with me that way.

It was his eyes. Such a stunning shade of blue I wasn't aware anyone could possibly possess in the real world, captivating right from the get go. They were boring holes right through to the centre of my soul before I'd even clocked the man myself. Admittedly, his hair kind of did it for me too, what with it being so freakishly outlandish. Electric teal – what a sight. It reminded me so much of my own gawk-worthy tresses, and I couldn't help but wonder if it had gotten him into as much trouble as mine did when he was growing up. Maybe that's what gave him those hard edges to that gorgeously handsome face, what made the muscles in his arms – which are out on full display thanks to the black muscle shirt he's wearing – so thick and powerful? Who knows? Not me, that's for sure.

But that doesn't mean I'm not determined to find out.

As I get up from my table, abandoning my friends – like they even care they're that wasted – I'm surprised to see that the blue haired Adonis is apparently all alone, which by all accounts is just plain weird. I mean, even if he came here by himself, surely he should be beating flocks of admirers off with a sharp, at least ten foot pole.

This makes me hesitate slightly in approaching him. Did I miss something? I don't see any gang tattoos, or delinquent style piercings, and he certainly isn't giving off any dangerous vibes. That is, dangerous as in 'potential serial killer', because the look he's giving me right now is certainly on the bestial side of perilous. It doesn't intimidate me though, like I think he may have intended it too. Instead, it sends a shiver of anticipation throughout my veins, like taking a bullet at point blank. If anything, that feral look in those stunning cerulean blue eyes is only drawing me in faster.

By the time I'm standing in front of him, he'd swivelled in his stool so that he was facing me, his elbows resting behind him on the bar. He looked so relaxed and at ease, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth and his eyes glittering with promise that I was all too eager to discover. He was dressed rather casually, in dark denim bootcut jeans, his plain black t-shirt that hugged him like a second skin, and a pair of black Timberland boots. I guess I was geared up rather plainly too, in purple skinnies, a powder blue shirt and white Doc Martens. But fuck it all if he didn't make 'casual' look so damn edible.

"Hey cutie," were the first words out of that sinful mouth, practically purred on a low baritone. I hate to admit it, but it made my knees a little weak. "Ya see somethin' ya like?"

"I should be asking you that," I scoff, folding my arms. He quirks a brow and I return the smirk. "You're the one who's been staring holes through the back of my head for the past half hour, not the other way around."

His lips pull up further, revealing beautifully white teeth with intriguingly pointed canines. "Can't argue with that. Must a'been that bleached mop ya got there. Kind'a hard not to stare at it."

I narrow my eyes, a well rehearsed phrase issuing forth before I can stop it. "It's completely natural, asshole. And if you're not careful, I'll fucking prove it."

I watch as his own eyes narrow to match mine, only his are in direct challenge. "Better watch what ya say, brat. Some people may take that as an invitation."

"People like you?" I ask, without really knowing why.

He doesn't say a word, but then again he doesn't have to, that wicked smile said it all; 'People exactly like me…' I disguise a pleasant shudder with a roll of the shoulders, though I'm pretty certain he caught it anyway.

"Got a name, kid?"

"Well it sure ain't 'kid'," I chide, hoping that it sounded as scolding as I had intended. "It's Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki."

The blunette blinked, his thin, blue tinted brows rising. "Your parents named ya 'Strawberry'? Isn't that a girl's name?"

I clench my jaw, biting back a groan of exasperation. You'd think that I'd be well used to the whole hair and name calling thing by now, what with the two haunting me the whole way through high school. But honestly? It never fails to hit a nerve.

"A girl's name?" I reiterate, gesturing to my front. "Do you see any tits?"

He took the offered opportunity to let his gaze prowl over my form. It was brief, maybe five, six seconds tops, but it was so…heated, and predatory, I could feel blood rushing to pool in my cheeks. It would be my luck that he noticed.

"Heh, don't see any tits, but I gotta say…" He licked his lips, my eyes immediately focusing on the purely erotic movement. "…that beautiful blush a'yours sure makes ya look delicious, Berry…"

I could feel my lips curling at the mention of that cursed nickname, even in spite of the pleasurable twitch my cock gave at the way it rolled off of the other man's tongue. It causes my blush to spread like wildfire, infecting my neck and the tips of my ears, and that damn bastard does nothing but fucking smirk, like he's King of the fucking world.

I quickly decide that coming over here perhaps wasn't the best of ideas, not if my manly ego is going to suffer for it. The man before me may be the hottest thing to grace the earth since Gerard Butler – purr – but an asshole's still an asshole.

I turn on my heel, preparing to leave the man where he belongs – which is miles behind me – but a large hand seizing my wrist stops me in place. I glance over my shoulder, and have to swallow thickly at the sight that greets me. Alluring blue orbs shining with a whole flurry of emotion, and a small, but completely genuine smile. Both beckon me in with such ease that I ignore the little warning flag popping up in my head.

"Don't be so touchy, kid," the man tells me, gesturing to the seat beside him with a nod. "Sit. Drink with me."

How could I possibly say no?

I do so wordlessly as the blunette captures the barman's attention. A tall, sturdily built man with silver hair and a silver hoop through his left eyebrow approaches, leaning both hands on the bar as he speaks. "Whaddya want?"

"Gimme a Jack sour," the blunette ordered, before both men looked expectantly at me. "And for the titless Berry?"

I scowled, but shrugged. "Whatever. I'm easy."

The grin splitting the Adonis' face was spine-tingling seductive. "Well, if they aren't two of my favourite words." He turned back to the bartender. "Better make that two."

"Thanks Kensei," I add, the two of us nodding at one another before he moved off to prepare the drinks.

"He a friend of yours?" the blunette asks once Kensei is out of earshot.

I choose to ignore the fact that he sounded almost resentful. "No. Well, not really." When the Adonis frowned, confused, I sigh and elaborate. "I know the manager, he and my father go way back. Hence I know most of the bar staff here. Good thing, too, otherwise I'd never even get in."

"Wait, so you're a minor?"

I nod, giving the blue haired man a sly grin. "Nineteen."

"Ichigo, you idiot," Kensei scorned, suddenly appearing in front of us to deposit our drinks. "Careful how loud you go blabbin' stuff like that."

I shrug, not in the least bit phased. "Like Urahara would ever kick me out. I'd like to see that wannabe pervert even try."

Kensei simply rolled his eyes before stalking off once more, leaving me and the blunette alone. Well, inasmuch as anyone can be 'alone' in a packed out nightclub.

"So, what's a kid like you doin' here in the first place?" Adonis asks me, taking a long pull of his drink. "Tryin' to grow up before your time, like all little teenyboppers these days?"

"'Teenyboppers'?" I retort, fighting to hold back a chuckle. "Way to sound like my gramps."

The blunette scowled and, if I heard correctly, growled. "Fuck off, brat. I'm only twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven?" My eyes widen significantly at that. Okay yes, I'd expected him to be older than me, but I was guessing around twenty-two – three, max. "Yikes. Shouldn't you be at home, wearing your slippers and, I dunno, sipping on warm milk or something?"

"Watch your tongue, boy, before I teach ya how to use it properly." I think he may have meant that as some form of threat, but instead I found my head instantly cramming full of all the wonderfully sinful images of exactly what he could 'teach' me. "Now answer the damn question, Kurosaki."

I'm not entirely sure why I feel the compulsion to do as he tells me. Maybe it's the alcohol streaming through my system, or the fact that he's so gorgeous it makes me feel a little self-conscious. Either way, I find myself answering him with due haste.

"I'm here with my friends." I point a finger over my shoulder to the table I'd deserted in favour of his company. It showed a few of my high school pals; Keigo, who was pissed off his ass and whining away about something or other to a relatively sober Mizuiro, who in turn was completely ignoring him and happily texting away on his mobile. Renji and Rukia were there too, sitting beside one another, stealing longing looks and subtle caresses – and making everyone around them frustrated as hell for not sucking it up and sucking face already. They're going to end up together eventually, and everyone fucking knew it, but both are far too stubborn to make the first move. Dolts.

Orihime and Tatsuki are somewhere within the vicinity, but Christ only knows where. Probably off making out on the dance floor, giving every damn bloke in the place a raging hard on – as per usual.

"Hn. They seem like an…interestin' bunch."

I can only nod. "You could say that… We're all out celebrating our college acceptances, so I guess they're all letting loose more than usual." I quickly scan the myriad of sweaty bodies out on the dance floor, shrugging when I draw a blank for what I sought. "There's a pair of lesbians around here, too. Fuck if I know where, though."

The blunette actually looks impressed, which for some reason makes me smile. "Celebrating, huh? Well, what a coincidence."

"Oh, and what are you celebrating? Your midlife crisis?"

I can't help but chuckle when the Adonis glares at me. God, it's almost too easy to get a rise out of him. "Shut the fuck up about my age, Berry, or else I'm gonna have to show ya just how young this body is…"

Okay, now I know I must be at least a little tipsy, because the next word out of my mouth just so happens to be, "Promise?"

The blunette looked as shocked as I felt, before a slow, toothy grin curved his lips in the most delectable kind of way. He looks like he wants to taste me, and, with the way my heart's racing and my skin's burning, I'm thinking I wouldn't exactly hate that. Not in the slightest.

He leans forward suddenly, cupping a hand around the back of my neck to pull me forward. His lips are suddenly right by my ear, his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh and causing my eyelids to flutter closed.

"I'll do a lot more than promise ya, Ichigo…" he purred, his sharp teeth nipping at the shell of my ear.

Ah shit. The way my name sounds when it pours from his lips is like listening to dark, velvety sin, and it's turning me the fuck on. I'm thinking that I could very easily get used to hearing him say it, but whether that's a good or bad thing, I've yet to figure out.

This particular thought brought to light something that had previously slipped my mind, and I turned a frown on the man beside me.

"You still haven't told me your name," I state, doing my utmost to stop myself from mentally undressing him as we draw apart.

He simply smirks. "That so? Well, ya don't need to concern yourself with that." He cast me a sidelong glance, that smug grin turning feral. "Not yet, at any rate."

I cock a brow. Well, that sounded ominous…

11:56PM

Large, callused hands roam a sensual path from my chest down to my abdomen, before dipping under the hem of my shirt and rubbing small circles over my hipbones. I let my head fall back onto a broad shoulder, humming as I throw my arms behind my head, my fingers delving into surprisingly silky teal locks. A sultry breath fans over my neck moments before lips are pressed against it, a wanton moan bubbling for release in my chest as that hot mouth begins to suck at my heated flesh.

I tug hard on the man's hair, his growl vibrating through my back as he practically melds himself into me, one hand abandoning my hip so that he can grip my throat and tilt my head, allowing him better access to the spot he seems determined to suck right off.

There are people all around us, the loud, pumping music absolutely deafening as we all bump and grind on the dance floor. But I can't say that I'm really paying attention to any of that. Apart from the fact that my body is reacting to the fast paced rhythm of the song like its second nature, the rest of the place may as well be one giant, black void. All my hazy brain can register is the insistent kisses being lavished over my skin, the rough hands gripping me tight and holding me prisoner against what I can feel to be a well toned body. And I'm definitely not complaining.

I roll my hips back into the blunette's groin, barely stifling a groan when I encounter the man's very apparent arousal. Sharp teeth nip at my throat in what I can only surmise is approval, so I do it again.

"Fuck," the blunette growls close to my ear, making my own rock hard cock throb in excitement at the sexy sound.

Both hands drop to my hips then, pulling my ass back at the same time his hips grind forward. A hot, wet tongue laves at the nape of my neck and I swear, if the man wasn't holding me so tight, I would have made intimate contact with the floor in the form of a face-plant. I'm only glad that the music is as loud as it is, because I sound so incredibly fucking needy right now that it's actually bruising my pride.

"The name's Grimmjow, by the way," the blunette suddenly informs me before his tongue is back in action, licking just under my ear. Who'd have thought that such a random spot could feel so damn good?

"You're telling me this now?" is my bewildered response, my words spoken loud enough for him to hear me.

I feel him, Grimmjow, chuckle against me. "Trust me, Berry…you're gonna need to know it…"

Hn. Now that sounds even more ominous than last time…

12:24AM

"Nngn, shit…Grimmjow…"

"Shush, Berry. You're gonna get us caught before we even get to the good part…"

Shush? Fucking shush? That's easy for him to say! He's not the one with a hot mouth sucking on his pulse point whilst wicked fingers knead at his backside…

If I were even a little more sober than I am right now, I'd probably be mortified to think of myself doing something as base and sordid as getting off with another man in a public restroom. And not just any other man, but a complete stranger. I've never been one to shy away from what it is that I want, whether material or otherwise, and this man, this Grimmjow character, is no exception to the rule. But that doesn't mean I'm used to being so…well, slutty. Christ, we've only just met and I can already tell that this blue haired demon is going to be the sole cause of my untimely demise.

The distinct sound of my belt buckle chinking has my breath hitching and my hands flying down from their position around a corded neck to capture large wrists. I'm met with a rumbling growl that has my already uncomfortable hard on twitching.

"The fuck're ya doin', Kurosaki?" Grimmjow demands of me, those captivating pools flashing with a dark flame to match an equally dark scowl.

Dropping my legs from around his waist, I hop down from my position propped up on the edge of one of the sinks. I don't miss the heated glare aimed in my direction as I work on fastening my loosened belt.

"We can't do this. Not here. Why don't we bail out and catch a cab back to mine, or yours if you'd prefer?"

"My place won't work," he said flatly, his gaze averting off to the side with a look I couldn't quite decipher before suddenly snapping back to mine. "And anyway, that shit'd take too long. I'm horny now, Kurosaki, and ya've got no one to blame but yourself fer that."

Before I could even think to say a single word in my defence, I was forcibly yanked into another searing kiss, his lips hungry and adamant against my own, leaving no room for debate on which direction the older man wanted to take the encounter. I might have complained had I the full use of my vocal cords, but I can't be entirely sure.

The drunken ramblings and none too graceful footfalls of other punters approaching had me trying to break the heated contact, but muscular arms just tightened around me further, moulding me against a sinfully taut body as I was half carried, half dragged into one of the cubicles behind us. The door wasn't locked even a split second before my back was rammed up against it, all words of protest building up in my lungs instantly doused by a slick, moist tongue delving into my mouth. Trying my damndest not to mewl like a cat in heat, I accepted the muscle eagerly, sucking it into a hot entanglement with my own just as the bathroom door swung open, letting a loud bassline filter in until it clicked shut again.

"…And they're real. She lemme squeeze 'em an' everythin', just to prove it."

"There's no fuckin' way. Nobody has tits the size of fucking beach balls. Not natural ones, at any rate."

"But she told me they were real!"

"Yeah, and he also told ya she was a natural blonde. Both are bullshit."

"Awwwh man…"

I rolled my eyes, even behind my closed lids. Damn, I really, really hope I don't sound so completely brainless when I've had one too many. The sound of the two men relieving themselves had me wrinkling my nose. I never would have thought, in my life, that I could find myself getting irrevocably turned on whilst simultaneously listening to someone piss. But there you have it.

Cool fingers work their way under the hem of my shirt to dance nimbly over my heated skin, deftly working their way up over my torso and hiking the material up with them. Sharp teeth nip at the shell of my ear, making my legs tremble and a strangled moan bubble up in my chest.

"Don't scream, kid," Grimmjow tells me in a sultry whisper, and I have only a few scant seconds to consider what he means by that before my left nipple is encased in moist warmth.

Biting back an emasculating moan, I throw my head back, wincing when it collides heavily with the wooden door as Grimmjow laves his tongue over the pebbled nub. My right hand flies up to cover my mouth to avoid any further humiliatingly wanton noises from spilling out, whilst my left curls into messy blue waves. I tug at his hair out of instinct, and am rewarded with a particularly sexy growl and a subtle scrape of teeth over the sensitive flesh of the first nipple's twin.

I vaguely register the sound of the two other bathroom occupants leaving in a flurry of drunken garbles and pulsing music, and take the opportunity to turn the tables. Maybe it was the danger factor, the risk of being discovered and shamed, or maybe it was as simple as the older man being so incredibly fucking hot, but whatever the reason, I was beyond aroused at this point – and absolutely determined to get off before the night is out.

Pushing hard at the man's shoulders, I smirk when he's caught off guard enough to stumble back, falling with a grunt on the – thankfully – closed toilet seat. A cold glower is set upon me, but it doesn't last long when I suddenly drop to my knees in front of him. I can only thank Christ at this point that the floor is clean. A thin blue brow cocks up when I position myself between his spread thighs, accompanied by a wide, toothy grin that does all kinds of wonderful things to my insides as I reach to undo his belt.

"Heh. Ya gonna blow me, Kurosaki?" he asks in a husky tone, his enthusiasm evident.

Before I can reply, yet more punters stumble into the restroom, spouting more gibberish about various women and how they're starving for kebabs. Ignoring them in favour of the man practically raping me with his eyes, I force myself to show no fear as I reach into his now unfastened jeans.

My eyes widen slightly at the weighty feel of the blunette's member, before damn near bugging out of their sockets when I manage to get the monster fully unleashed. It seems unfair to me that one could be so ethereally good looking and so ridiculously well endowed. I just know that somewhere out there in the world, there's some poor sod who's not only unjustly unattractive, but has a tiny dick to boot – and all because this pompous jackass just had to have both.

Sucking the corner of my lip into my mouth to nibble pensively on, I'm met with a rumbling growl and gorgeous cerulean orbs darkened with desire. Grimmjow fisted a hand in my hair, bending to my ear to issue his dare.

"What's the matter, Berry? Not backin' out now, are ya?"

A wide, impish smirk tugged at my lips, and I answered with a simple, "Don't scream, Grimmjow…"

12:58AM

Checking that the coast was clear, I make my way out of the bathroom cubicle, followed closely by the blunette who was still in the process of buckling his belt. I can only grimace at the sharp pain shooting through my backside and lower back, as well as the rather disturbing feeling of Grimmjow's still warm seed seeping from, ugh, inside me.

Strong, tanned arms wrap around my waist from behind, pulling me into a muscular chest, and I can't help but inhale deeply at the intoxicating aroma of the older man as he nuzzles his face into the nape of my neck. The smell of sex and sweat is clinging tightly to both our bodies, and I can feel him taking a deep breath of it too as he buries his nose into my dampened tresses. I'm not too sure as to why, but I find myself practically melting into the man's embrace as lips press in a strangely tender kiss on the back of my neck. A soft sigh escapes my lips, and I can feel him grinning against my skin. The whole atmosphere is oddly content and relaxed for what just went down, like the two of us were long-term lovers too impatient to wait until they got home to make love, rather than complete strangers just out for a hard, fast fuck in the nearest available space. It was…oddly nice, and god knows how long we might've stood there like that had we not been interrupted, but, as is the story of my life, the bliss wasn't to last long.

When the bathroom door slammed open, and a freakishly tall man with shoulder length raven hair and sporting a white bandana over his left eye stormed in, I tried to jump out of the blunette's arms, only to find myself restrained once again.

"There the fuck ya're!" the raven haired male exclaimed, and, I have to admit, I was very relived to find out he was addressing Grimmjow. "Tha fuck, Blue! We've been lookin' fer yer sorry hide fer the better part of an hour!"

Grimmjow snorted. "Yeah, well…I've been busy, Nnoitra."

"I can see that…" the other retorted, his one visible, steel grey eye zeroing in on the arms still curled around my midsection.

I felt violated as that stormy orb began a slow ascent up the rest of my body, shuddering slightly when it landed on my gaze. Luckily, Grimmjow broke the unwanted contact with a low, throaty rumble, causing Nnoitra to refocus his attention on him. I gladly would have kissed the blunette for the small gesture, if I didn't feel that the situation was already awkward enough.

"Well, I hope ya got yer dick wet enough, 'cause the rest of us are ready to bounce," Nnoitra announced, folding thin arms across a narrow chest. "C'mon Blue, we've wasted enough time in this shithole, it's time to hit the strip joint. After all, what's a bachelor party without strippers?"

Okay, wait. Back it up. Bachelor party?

Turning wide, ochre eyes on the man in question, I find my jaw clenching at his overly indifferent attitude. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Just gimme a sec here. I'll be right out."

I couldn't quite believe just how quickly my emotions could pull a one-eighty, how one man could make me feel on top of the world one moment, and then wrench the glorious feeling of euphoria right out from under my feet the next. And, as he turned to me after the departure of his toothpick reminiscent friend, taking one of those Sharpie pens from his pocket to scribble across my forearm, it was blatantly obvious that he didn't give a flying fuck about what he'd just done.

After realising he was scrawling his mobile number on my skin, I snatched my arm away from him, the last number leaving a long, unnecessary trail down my arm. "You're getting married?" I seethed, pinning him with a deadly glare. "Okay, maybe it's just me, but that's the kind of thing I'd start an initial conversation off with, y'know like; 'Hey, the name's Grimmjow. I'm twenty-seven, have natural blue hair, and…oh yeah – I'm engaged!' Fuck my life!"

"The hell ya gettin' so bent outta shape for? I told ya I was out celebratin', didn't I?"

"You can't be serious?" I deadpanned, my fingers curling into fists that were now quivering with a very foreign, and entirely horrid sensation. "You…I…we just fucked, Grimmjow! How can you stand there and act like this isn't a big deal? What about your fiancé? Don't you care?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes at me, like I was some bratty little kid ranting about getting no dessert after dinner. It was pissing me the hell off.

"It's...complicated. And besides, it's not like she'll ever find out, so where's the harm?" he stated coolly, those cerulean pools showing no glimmer of remorse for his actions. How was it that I was more upset about this than he was? It was so fucked up I was getting a migraine. "Ya know, am hearin' an awful lot of complainin' where I should be hearin' gratitude. I just rocked your world, Kurosaki, so how's about ya stop all yer goddamn bitchin' and jus' thank me al–"

I cut him off with a jarring right hook square in that cocky mouth of his. He stumbled back, caught completely off guard by the spontaneous action, and for the longest moment I stood in anticipation of his reaction. I can't remember the last time I was this fucking livid. How dare he! How could he do that to me, to his fiancée, and not even bat an eyelid?

Bringing the back of his right hand up to his mouth, I saw his eyes flashing menacingly when he drew it back only to catch sight of his own blood staining the tanned flesh. His tongue poked out, swiping across his bottom lip where I'd split it open. I found myself swallowing hard. I mean, it's not like the guy is by any means small, in height or stature, and I'm pretty sure if something kicks off – whilst confident I'll be able to hold my own and inflict some serious damage – he'll bloody me up right and proper. So when a slow smirk pulls at his lips and he chuckles, I blink, dumbfounded.

"Shit, kid," he laughs, wincing as he runs the pad of his thumb across his abused lip. "Ya sure got a fiery spirit. If you're not careful, I could really fall for you."

I straightened up, my lip curling. "Too bad the feeling's not mutual, jerk-off."

His smirk broadened, showing off those sharp canines. "Call me, Kurosaki. Next weeks no good for obvious reasons, but I'll be back from my honeymoon on the twenty-seventh. Hit me up then."

"Bastard," I spat, my fury spiking at the mere mention of 'honeymoon'. "I'm never going to call a scumbag like you, so you can just forget it! People like you make me sick. I hope you get what's coming to you."

In the blink of an eye, Grimmjow had me pinned to the wall behind me, one hand balled up in my shirt and the other planted beside my head. I glared up at him as he grinned down on me, absolutely despising myself for still finding him so incredibly beautiful even given the recent turn of events.

"You an' me both, Ichigo," he breathed into my ear before sealing his lips over my own in one final, bloodstained kiss.

I watched him leave the restroom in that arrogant swagger of his, the door clicking softly behind his retreating figure. My brows were creased in a deep scowl and my eyes wide in bewilderment as a tornado of warring emotions whirled through my head. Dropping my gaze to the spider-scrawl jotted across my forearm, I sneered and made my way over to the sink. Procuring some liquid soap from the dispenser, I quickly made up a lather under the tap and held my hand over the offensive, sharp black numbers, ready to scrub my skin red-raw.

And then, as if my body was deliberately out to betray me, I froze, my hand simply hovering millimetres above making contact. Little blobs of suds dripped down onto the ink, and I could only watch as the pinky colour of the soap bled with the black and began to run down my arm.

I grit my teeth so hard it hurt. What the fuck is wrong with me? The bastard's a total prick! Rude, conceited, dishonest, immoral, debauched, and every other negative adjective one could think of…

…so then why, in the name of all that is holy, am I currently punching the damned demon's number into my mobile and slipping it back into my pocket? I'm playing with fire here, and I know it all too well. But, whether I'm man enough to admit it or not, I've had a taste of pure, unadulterated sin tonight – and it wasn't nearly sufficient enough to quell my rapidly burning appetite. Just like the forbidden fruit, I want it because I shouldn't want it.

Sighing heavily, I make my way back to my friends with only one thing on my mind; I'm so completely and utterly screwed.

Little did I know, it wasn't ever going to be enough.

Present

"…and the rest is history, I guess." I finish my long, and admittedly quite emotional, recap of events with a small shrug.

During the length of the tale, Shirosaki had finished washing me down – or, more accurately, discreetly molesting me – and I was now returning the favour. Not that I was molesting him or anything. Well, not much. He was facing me as I massaged the powerfully sweet soap into his chest, his gold-on-obsidian eyes watching me with an emotion I couldn't quite figure out. A slight frown was furrowing his brows, and caused a sympathetic one to pull my own together.

"Shi?" I ask, my hands pausing on firm pectorals. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

He simply continued to stare, those hypnotic eyes scanning my face like he was trying to extract hidden information from it. I could feel my scowl etching deeper at the uncomfortable attention I was receiving, and opened my mouth to snap at him to stop staring already, but he beat me to it.

"Yah love 'im, don't'cha King?" he asked suddenly, his words holding so much conviction that the question sounded more like a statement.

I quickly drop my gaze and snort, picking up where I'd left off in washing him just to avoid those penetrating orbs. "I would have thought that much was obvious. I mean, why else would I be still be seeing him if I didn't?"

"Tha's not what I meant, Ichigo," he stated, grabbing my wrists to stop my hands and pin them against his chest. I gave him a quizzical look and his frown lessened fractionally. "Anybody can love, aibou, tha' much is easy. But what you've got is somethin' much deeper than tha'… It's so obvious in tha way tha' yah talk about 'im, even tha way yah look at 'im. This ain't jus' love, King, is it?"

I avert my gaze off to the side and huff. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure yah do," Shirosaki countered, pulling me close. "An' I can prove it."

"Huh? What are you–"

Shirosaki silenced me with his lips, one milky hand cupping my face whilst the other wrapped tight around my waist. My own hands, which were still against his chest, slid up to curl around his neck. In spite of the fact that we were both totally naked and enticingly wet, the kiss was surprising soft, gentle, and completely devoid of any demand. There was no battle for dominance, our tongues tangling together almost languidly as they met each other halfway, neither of us fighting to push the other back.

The contact between us was so tender, so leisurely, that I wasn't entirely sure what to do with myself. I mean, I'm used to Grimmjow, and he's never been one to take things slowly, is always pushing me harder and harder until I have choice but to submit, lest I find myself drowning instead.

When Shirosaki finally drew back, I could only blink dazedly up at his smiling face. "Wha…What was that all about?"

"I was jus' verifyin' somethin' ta maself," he replied, petting his fingers through my damp, orange tresses. "Tell me Ichi, 'ave yah told Grimmjaw how yah feel?"

"Uh, no…" I untangle my arms from around his neck to scratch at the back of my head. "But he never has been one for all of that romantic crap. I'd feel like an idiot saying it, he wouldn't want to hear it, and I'm happy enough with that."

Shirosaki nodded. "Aa. I thought as much. He doesn't deserve yah, y'know tha', right?"

"I hear that a lot, actually," I chuckled without emotion. "But what can I say? We just…work, Grimm and I. Our relationship is complicated enough as it is, without the added burden of a whole mess of unnecessary emotional crap dumped on top of it. That's a headache we could both do without, thanks."

Shirosaki blinked a few times, his mesmerizing gaze set like stone upon my own, and then, "…Yer such an idiot."

"Wha–!" I splutter indignantly.

"Che, jus' look at'cha, Ichigo. I leave yah fer a few years, an' what happens? Yah turn inta somebody's bitch." I glower, fully prepared to argue my case, but Shirosaki cut me off by fisting a hand in my hair. "It's unacceptable, Ichigo. I will not have a King tha's weaker than I am, d'ya hear me? It can't work tha' way, an' I refuse ta carry a fool who's only goin' ta lead himself to tha slaughter."

I grit my teeth, not trusting myself to speak under the careful watch of those molten gold orbs. After a lengthy moment of intense scrutiny, Shirosaki seems to find what he's looking for and suddenly relaxes his hold, gently threading his fingers through the sodden strands instead.

"One way or another, aibou, order will be restored. At tha end of mah time here, yah will right tha wrong yah've created."

"Fuck you, Shiro," I grouse, smacking his hand away from me. "You can't tell me what to do, we're not little kids anymore."

"Don't force my hand, King," was the icy reply as the albino advanced, forcing me to take a step back. "Yer askin' me ta jus' stand by an' watch as tha' man takes everythin' yah've got ta give – but I won't do it. I refuse. He'll suck ya dry, aibou, an' am not about ta sit idly on tha sidelines an' let it happen."

I could only watch as Shirosaki quickly rinsed off, stunned into speechlessness by the onslaught of his unexpected 'counsel'. He casually stepped out afterward, tying a towel around alabaster hips as he made for the door. When he opened it he paused, glancing back over his shoulder but not actually looking at me.

"I'll give yah 'til tha end a'mah break here ta figure out exactly what it is tha' yah want, Ichigo. If yah haven't made a decision by then, then am takin' yah with me. I won't let yah perish here all alone." He cracked a sly smirk then, his sharp, white teeth practically gleaming under the bright, bathroom lights. "Now hurry up an' get dressed before am tempted ta fuck yer brains out. I'll make us some dinner."

I frowned after his retreating form, my mind working a mile a minute. Talk about fucking bipolar…

A/N: Oh me, oh my. This has been a long time coming. I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, I got a lot more carried away with 'Red Dead Bleach' than I had originally anticipated, and honestly? This particular chapter gave me a lot of bother. I don't know why, and am still not entirely happy with it, but I guess as long as you guys approve, then s'all good with me ^^

Um, yosh, so I had a few request about Ichigo and Grimm's first meeting, so there yah have it~ I know it's all very teasy, but if I'd gone lemon instead of lemonette, it'd never be finished! I get far too carried away with descriptions, hence I had ta break it up a lot. Hope it ain't too much of a disappointment.

Hm, I dunno about you guys, but I love ShiroIchi gettin' all fluffy in the shower~ Even when they're not goin' at it like snowy and tangerine bunnies, they're still incredibubbly hawt... Purr~

I promise to delve into some hard hittin' drama soon, my sweets, but fer now I can only hope ya'll enjoyed the latest instalment. In the meantime, I'm off ta kick life's ass fer draining me of my will ta write recently. 'Scuse me... *rolls up sleeves*

Enjoy at yer own risk, and ciao fer now

Toringtino~