Chapter Seven: I Think I'm Ready

You know what I hate? People who come in my store and try to tell me how to run it. It's my store. I bought it and I will sell what I want to sell, and if I choose not to carry a book that romanticizes physically and emotionally abusive relationships, then that's my business. Anyone who doesn't like it can fuck off to Barnes & Noble for all I care. Also, this is a fucking comic book store. Get the fuck.

The catty woman storms out of my store, exclaiming how I've "lost her business". Oh boohoohoo, how ever will I make it without some woman whom I've never seen before in the twelve years this store has existed? Bitch please.

I pick up my phone, checking my messages. I smile a bit when I see one from The Sexy Pirate™.

U good?

I'm fine, thanks.

U call your friend yet?

No

Grimm says he's worried bout u

So?

So stop bein a fuckin bitch and talk to him before I beat your ass

I roll my eyes. Who gave him the right to get up in my personal business? He's not my man; he's not even my friend. He doesn't know anything about the dynamics of my relationship with my best friend. He can see me with the hands if he's really feeling some type of way. Another message appears on the screen before I can tell him to fuck off.

U kno he was only worried bout u. He ain't mean to come at u sideways. He's your friend and you're important to him. U kno he only want the best for u even if his delivery was kinda shiesty.

Is he trying to comfort me in his own douchey kind of way? That's cute.

Fine. I'll talk to him if it'll get you off my back

U better or I'ma be on that ass

My dream come true

Stfu

That's a change. Usually he just stops responding when I make jokes like that. As we continue to message each other back and forth, I think about what he said about Ichigo.

He and I have been having spats like this since high school pretty much. I just find it kind of hypocritical that he's coming down on me for fucking around when he's constantly bed hopping too. This is the longest we've ever went without speaking though. I have to say it's killing me. I mean I have other friends, but none of them know me like Ichigo knows me; he's my best friend, my soulmate. I hate fighting with him more than anything. I just wish he'd stop trying to be my dad, and just be my friend. I sigh as I open the thread with his name on it. Nnoitra's right; this isn't a good enough reason to never speak to him again. I'll save that for when he fucks my man or sets my house on fire or something like that. I smile a little as I type my message that means we're good again.

I want Taco Bell

Ichigo and I never come outright and say that we're done fighting; we have like a code. If I'm mad at him, I message him and say that I want Taco Bell when I'm ready to talk again; if he's mad at me, he messages me and says he wants chicken nuggets. I guess we should talk about our issues, but this seems to work better for us. I look up from my phone when the bell on the door chimes. Nino smiles at me as he makes his way to the counter. I shake my head as I smile back.

"Do you ever go to school, boy?" I ask, and he laughs.

"Sometimes, sometimes. I was just wonderin' if ya need any help around here? My mom says I need a job, and I figured this would be the coolest job ever."

"Ain't yer dad rich?" I ask. I'll probably give him a job anyway; I just kinda wanna be nosy.

"Yeah, but Mama says I can't keep bummin' off my dad."

"M'kay, I'll give ya a job, under one condition." Nino's big eyes light up and I have to fight off a smile because I need to be one hundred percent serious.

"What's that?"

"Go. To. School. If I find out yer skippin', I'ma fire ya on the spot, aight?" I say, and Nino nods frantically, his smile lighting up the whole room. I write my number down on a sticky note. "Give this to yer mom and tell her to call me and I'll give her all the information she needs."

"Thanks so much, Shinji! I'ma go to school now," he says, shoving the paper into the pocket of his skinny jeans.

"You better," I call after him as he leaves the store.

The rest of the day goes by pretty smoothly. I just noticed that I've been talking to Nnoitra all day. Weird.

U need a ride?

I was going to ask Ichigo.

I got u. I'm already out anyway

Okay

I fight off a smile as I start to clean up the store. Does this mean he likes me? Nah, that's crazy. He's just being nice. Yeah, I'll go with that; it'd be stupid to get my hopes up like that. I hear the bell on the door chime as I'm sweeping up behind the counter.

"I'm sorry, but we're -" I turn around and I'm sure all the color drains from my face, "closed."

Ginjou smiles at me, a soft smile he'd always use when he "apologized" after I "made him upset". I feel sick.

"W-what are you doing here?" I ask, and I'm so pissed that my voice is shaking. I grip the broom until my knuckles are white so he won't see my hands shaking too.

"I came to see you, babe," he replies, easily. I frown deeply, not moving from behind the counter.

"Don't call me that," I say, my voice steady this time. Ginjou's smile doesn't falter as he approaches the counter. He leans on it, looking up at me with his dark brown eyes.

"Babe, I just want to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you," I say, stepping back so he isn't as close to me. "Please leave."

"C'mon, Shin, can't we start over? It's been so long."

"Forever wouldn't be fucking long enough, asshole!" I yell, and this causes Ginjou's sweet façade to crack. His smile quickly changes to a frown, his eyes cutting through me.

I'm in trouble.


I don't know what possessed me to offer Blondie a ride, but something told me I needed to. Maybe it was God. Maybe it was Satan. Maybe it was Obi Wan Kenobi. Whoever it was, I suppose they knew what was up. I'm standing at the entrance of Sakanade, looking through the glass to see some punk ass looking motherfucker reach over the counter and grab Blondie's arm. The pained look on his face tells me that this is not a pleasant interaction. The fuckboy leans over the counter and says something in Blondie's ear that has the color draining from his face. He tries to pull away from the dude, but I can see him tightening his grip, and this is when I feel it's best that I intervene. I open the door and walk inside, gaining the attention of the other two males; one looks pissed, and the other looks relieved.

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Who the fuck is that?" The brunette asks, yanking on Blondie's arm. He bites his lip to hold back a cry of pain.

"No one, he's no one. Please just let me go," he pleads, and something about that makes me mad as fuck. It's not that he said I was nobody; it's the fact that he's letting this fucking punk ass motherfucker treat him like this. Shit, he fucking chewed me out for saying his store was shitty.

Fuckboy snarls, "This who you fuckin'?" Pretty Boy shakes his head, trying with earnest to pull his arm out of the other male's grasp. I shake my head slowly. It's too damn early for this shit.

"Aight, ya got two options," I say, taking a few steps toward them. "Number one: you can let him the fuck go and get the fuck up outta here. Number two: I can beat yer motherfuckin' ass. Make ya choice."

"What if I choose to tell you to shut the fuck up and mind yer own goddamned business? This is between me and him. How 'bout you get the fuck up outta here."

It's not my business, he said? True. But it'll be a chilly day in hell before I let some fucker in a Member's Only jacket come at me sideways and get away with it. I stride over to the counter, wrapping my hand around the brunet's neck and slamming him to the ground. He starts to choke for air and I press down harder.

"Now don't act like I ain't give ya options. Ya hadja chance. Lemme take yer order. What'chu want? A two piece wit' a side of hands?" Of course he can't answer since I'm crushing his windpipe, but I don't care. I draw my fist back and I'm about to hit him when I feel delicate fingers wrap around my wrist.

"It's okay, Nnoi. Let him go," Blondie says, quietly, and I immediately let the dude go. I stand up as he gasps and coughs.

"I catch ya 'round here fuckin' wit' him again, and I'ma kill you," I growl. He glares at Blondie and then at me before he climbs off the floor and leaves. I turn to Blondie who's cradling his arm. "You aight?" He nods, his caramel colored eyes wide and shifty. I'on' know the history between them, but I do know that he's scared outta his mind. "Wanna go to the hospital?" He shakes his head.

"I can't go home, though. He knows where I live," he says quietly. I can hear his voice shaking. I sigh, running a hand over my face.

"Wanna stay at my place for the night?" His wide eyes go wider, and I'm certain that he's not as surprised as I am that I just asked him that. His staring starts to grate on my nerves and I frown. "Do ya want to or nah? I ain't got all night."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," he says, after gathering his thoughts.

I stand by and wait for him to finish doing what he was doing before he was interrupted. He disappears to the back of the store for a while, and then returns with a messenger bag.

"Ready?" I ask. He nods and we leave the store after he locks it up behind us. "Ya needa go by yer house? You can borrow some of my boy's shit if ya don't want to."

"Can you just take me tomorrow? I don't want him bothering my parents."

"Aight."

The ride to my place is silent except for the radio. Blondie stares out the window the whole time, rubbing his injured arm. For a second, I think I hear sniffling, but I don't press it. He's already upset enough and it ain't none of my business.

Once we arrive at my place, we get out of the truck and go inside. Nino is upside down on the couch playing some kind of horror video game that I told him not to be playing. He pauses the game and sits up, looking surprised yet excited when his eyes land on Blondie.

"Hey, Shinji! What'chu doin' here?" he asks, and Blondie shrugs.

"I suppose yer dad decided I was good enough to be in his presence," he replies, a coy smile playing on his lips. I roll my eye.

"Lemme show ya to the guest room. Nino, get'cho watermelon head ass in the goddamn shower. Ya know ya got school tomorrow." Nino grumbles under his breath as he heads for his room. "Keep it up and yer lil peanut head friends'll be right at they own houses this weekend. Try me, boy." Blondie laughs as we head down the opposite hallway.

"Why you always roastin' yer son?" he asks, and I shrug as I open the door to the guest room and let him walk in.

"He gotta learn early that the world is always ready to roast his ass. Bathroom is across the hall. My room is down the other hallway, last door on the left. Don't wake me up for no stupid shit, unless yer really hankerin' for an ass whoopin'."

"Aye, aye, Captain," he says, giving me a mock salute. I roll my eyes and leave the room, heading for my own.

It's not until later on in the night that I get woken up from my sleep. I use my hand to cover my eyes as the light from the hallway streams into the room.

"Nino, if you don't take yer ass to bed. . ." I grumble before I feel the bed shift beside me, and a distinct scent that is not Nino overwhelms my senses. I feel his arms slink around my waist and I sigh. "Didn't I tell you not to wake me up for no stupid shit?"

"Please let me stay with you?" he says, his voice quiet like a child that's had a bad dream.

"Yer stayin' in my house. Ain't that enough?"

"No," he says, holding on tighter. "Just let me stay in here with you, okay?"

I groan and try to push him away, but his grip is like a fucking vice. "Fine, whatever. Don't be snorin' and shit or I'll beat yer ass."

"Whatever you say, Nnoi."

I wait until I hear his breathing even out before I remove my hand from my face. In the dim light of the city outside, I can see his face. He looks so young and innocent, but I know for a fact he's not. I don't know why I'm letting him sleep in my bed. I don't know why I asked him if he wanted to stay here. I don't know why I beat that dude's ass for him, or why I offered to give him a ride, or why I spent my whole fucking day texting him about dumb shit. I don't know what he's doing to me, but I don't fucking like it.

I wait until I'm a hundred percent sure he's asleep, and then I slide out of the bed and head for the guest room.


My eyes flutter open, fighting against the sunlight that's pouring into the room from the window. I look around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. I know I'm in Nnoitra's house, and I'm almost one hundred percent certain that this is his bed. Where is he though?

I climb out of the bed, leaving the room and heading down the hallway. I'm guessing the door next to Nnoitra's room leads to Nino's. I keep walking until I reach the living room. I see Nino on the couch, watching SpongeBob and eating Fruity Pebbles. I smile before I walk around the couch and sit with him.

"Mornin', Shin," he says, naturally, not even looking away from the television as if I'm supposed to be here.

"Mornin'. Where's yer dad?" I ask. Nino finishes his cereal and gets up to take the bowl to the kitchen.

"He's in the guest room. Don't know why."

Oh.

I get up from the couch and head down the hall to where the guest room is. I open the door and I see him there on the bed, fast asleep. Why didn't he stay with me? After all the shit he did for me yesterday, I thought he at least maybe liked me a little bit. I mean, you don't just offer rides or a place to stay to someone you don't care about at all, right? Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I should show him some gratitude.

I walk around the bed, making sure to keep quiet. He's not under the covers, so I crawl onto the bed as gently as possible, slipping between his long legs. I can see the print of his dick in his pajama pants, and I lick my lips as I reach out and stroke him lightly through the fabric. His breath catches in his sleep, but he doesn't move otherwise, and he doesn't wake up. I work my fingers into the waistband of his pants, tugging at them and pulling them down slowly. His dick is just as glorious as I remember, and I sigh blissfully as I take the tip in my mouth. He moves around a bit, his breathing accelerating slightly as I start to find my rhythm. I hollow my cheeks and use my arms to prop myself up, taking more and more of him into my mouth until I can feel his tip at the back of my throat. I look up just in time to see him cover his eyes with his hand.

"Too fuckin' early for this shit," he grumbles before he uses his other hand to tug on my hair to get me to release him. I pull away, giving him a confused look, even though he can't see me.

"Dontcha want me to do this?" I ask. It's what they always want from me. It's the only way I'll matter.

"Why ya think that? 'Cause I helped ya out?"

"Well, yeah. I want to make sure ya know I appreciate it."

"Ya ain't gotta suck my dick for that. Ya know, there's like. . .words? 'Thank' and 'you' are usually the ones people use to show appreciation." I frown and sit up on my haunches, looking down at him. What is he saying? Is he actually turning down head right now? Does he really not like me that much?

"So. . .ya don't want me to suck yer dick?"

"Nah. Not if yer only doin' it 'cause ya feel like ya gotta thank me for shit." He sits up, turning his back so I can't see his face.

"Why d'ya hate me so much?" I ask, before I can stop myself. He sighs, but doesn't turn to face me.

"I don't fuckin' hate'cha, stupid. Ya think I'd let'cha be up in my house if I did?" What he said makes sense, but I'm still not grasping it. Maybe it's because it's not often that I'm around a guy who doesn't want some form of sex from me. He stands up and walks to the dresser, searching around in the top drawer. "Honestly, I'on' know how the fuck I feel boutcha. Ya confuse the fuck outta me, so gimme a chance to wake up before ya start yer nonsense, aight?" He turns around then, his eye covered with a black bandana.

"So. . .you like me?" I ask and he shrugs.

"Do I really seem like the type'a dude that'll come right out and say some gay shit like that?" With that he leaves the room and a few seconds later I hear him and Nino yelling insults at each other.

He's got some fucking nerve talking about me confusing him.


I frown as I unlock Grimm's door and walk inside. When I get to the living room, I hear a very distinctive groan and my frown deepens. I clear my throat once I'm in the room, and Grimm jumps and turns around with a heavy scowl on his face. The bitch that was giving him head peeks up over the couch, looking embarrassed. I shake my head.

"Damn, Nnoi, you can't knock?" Grimm laments as he stands up and fixes his pants.

"No, boy. What the fuck I'ma knock for when I got a damn key? How many times are we gonna have this discussion?" I ask, flopping down in one of the armchairs. Grimm groans, and turns his attention to the female.

"Aight, you gotta be out." The bitch looks at him like he's told her she got terminal cancer.

"Why?"

"Because. . .I. . .said. . .so. . .?" Grimm says, and I try so hard not to laugh as the woman pouts.

"But how am I supposed to get home?"

"You got some gas money?"

"No."

"Walk then."

"But -"

"Bye, Felicia."

I can't hold it in anymore and I erupt with laughter as the woman storms out of the room, and Grimm starts laughing too when she yells about how he, "ain't shit". That's something I can't help but find funny as hell; these bitches act like they don't already know we ain't 'bout shit but the pussy. It ain't our fault if they wanna put us up on some kinda pedestal and get they feelings hurt. If you don't want your feelings hurt, don't get them involved. Simple.

Once Grimm and I calm down, he sits back on the couch, turning the television to the game.

"Fuck you doin' here, boy?" he asks as he lights a cigarette. I stare at the TV, trying to figure out a way to say what I'm here for. I can see him frowning at me in my peripheral vision. "Boy if you don't -"

"Aight, chill, damn," I say, turning to face him. I clear my throat. "I think. . .I think I wanna fuck Blondie."

Grimm leans back in his seat, steepling his fingers under his chin, and that's when I know I've made a terrible mistake.

"All this time. . .I've told you that getting ass was just as good as getting pussy. But you said, 'No, no. I ain't with that gay shit'. And, now you come to me, and you say: 'Don Grimmjow, give me your wisdom on getting the butt cheeks'. But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me. . .Godfather. Instead, you come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to give you the game."

"I hate'chu so fuckin' much." He starts laughing and I'm about to be mad as fuck, but then he gets serious.

"Aight, fam. If yer serious about slidin' in guts, I'll help ya out. But you gotta be prepared to learn, aight?"

"Whatever. Just don't be havin' me doin' no faggot shit, aight?"

"Bruh. Yer literally talkin' 'bout fuckin' a dude. . .you know what, never mind. You ready?" he asks, putting out his cigarette. I frown a bit before I nod.

Am I really ready though? I guess we'll find out.


Cookies for whoever gets the reference xD Thanks to everyone who's given this story a chance. You're all wonderful!

Until next time,

Patd06