A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR... Kind of. So, my exams aren't officially over yet, but the worst is over, and I only have one left. In celebration, have the title chapter of this fic, and the halfway marker. I do hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Six: Recovery
Casually I confide,
Awake and paralysed.
Forever in one word.
Forever is the longest time.
It's the only cure.
I'm not sure I'll survive.
This is not a new game.
So don't think that you know.
Promise me, you will not ever leave.
-Recovery, Funeral For A Friend
I glared at my finger as it shook, hovering over the buzzer.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the cold metal button firmly, the plastic bags straining in my other hand.
"Yeah?"
A small smirk pulled at my lips as I replied. An old joke.
"Herro, you wan derivery?"
I was rewarded with a deep chuckle and the humming of the door, allowing me entrance. As I reached the top of the stairs, I saw the door to the flat was propped open. I pushed through, kicking it shut behind me before removing my shoes - a familiar routine. Unfortunately, with that routine, followed familiar words. Words I should not have spoken.
"Tadaima."
Silence.
I could only hope that he hadn't heard as I left the hallway, shifting the bags so they were back in both hands. Where was he? I scanned the living room to find it empty.
"Okaeri."
I turned around, trying not to gape at him as I moved to join him in the kitchen, placing down the bags of Chinese takeout and beer on the counter. He smirked at me as he grabbed plates from the cupboard. We stood side-by-side in that tiny kitchen, loaded our plates, popped open beers. If I had closed my eyes, I might have convinced myself that nothing had changed.
We watched television as we ate, flicked through the various reruns, talked about nothing in particular - work, mostly. I might have been completely relaxed, had one thing not niggled at my nerves, put me on edge. I found myself not wanting the dreaded topic of 'us' to rear its head. We finished our food. Grimmjow belched loudly. I laughed, caught his eye as he grinned. He took another swig from his second beer. Turned off the television.
Well, here goes nothing.
Silence.
I took a deep breath as I tried to read his expression. He wanted to talk, didn't he? So why wasn't he saying anything? I started to wonder if he had even thought this far ahead - I had. I sighed as I realised that, as ever, I would have to take the first step. I prompted him.
"So. Have you, y'know... Been thinking?"
Grimmjow looked down at his hands, swilled the beer in his bottle.
"Yeah."
My heart was thundering in my chest.
What does he want, what does he want, what does he want?
"What do you want to do?"
He remained quiet, and so I did too. I had to be patient. I needed to hear his answer. He blew out a breath.
"I don't know. You?"
I knew I shouldn't have been surprised. Yet, I was. To me, this was pretty fucking important. He had said that he needed time to think and I had given it to him. I had put so much thought into what I wanted, if I was sure. I had come here today with a resolve I had put a lot of effort into building. And here was Grimmjow, as unwilling to talk as ever.
Did he even care what happened now?
Fuck this.
I knew what I needed to do. I needed to tell him exactly how I felt, exactly what I had been thinking. Exactly what I wanted. Tell him the truth. Unload all of it onto him, see how he reacted - if he felt the same. I tried to form sentences in my head, but they wouldn't come. The thoughts just swirled, around and around, escaping when I tried to grasp them, put them into words.
I knew I needed to stay calm. Be rational. Not get over-emotional. But even as I thought this, I could feel it. The stinging in my sinuses. The burning behind my eyes. I rubbed them, took a deep breath, tried to calm myself. Sat up straight. Looked Grimmjow in the eye. I was determined.
"I want to give things another try."
I watched as his eyes widened, tried to steel myself against the fear. It was difficult, though. As cocky as it sounds, part of me had actually thought this would go reasonably well - a mutual confession, a long talk about how we could make it work, maybe some sex - perhaps I was just clinging to that ideal, in order to push myself further. Such an ideal was soon shattered, however, as he opened his mouth to speak.
"You think that's a good idea?"
It hurt. I should have expected this. How many times, I wondered, would I think that? How long would I continue to put hope in this man? How many times would he act against my expectations? No. I couldn't think like that. I had decided. This time, I would not give up. I wasn't going down without a fight.
"What's there to think about? I don't get it. If you love me - which, if I remember correctly, is what you said - why would you not want to be with me?"
I tried to stay calm, I really did. But I could feel myself welling up with frustration. I was sick of not understanding him - no. I was sick of him not letting me understand him. He was just looking at his hands, his expression dark. I hated it.
"Because I hold you back."
Not this again.
Was it just me, or was this the same old shit as ever? Alas, he continued.
"I want you to do something with your life, Ichigo, and if you stay in Karakura - stay with me - that ain't gonna happen."
I threaded my fingers through my hair, tempted to pull it right out. Took a deep breath. Tried to hide the exasperation in my voice, without much avail.
"Then why don't you move with me?"
I figured it was a fair enough suggestion. Although, this was not the first time I had asked. We had discussed this many times, during our relationship - moving away. But he had always had an excuse, a reason not to. Duties at work, family priorities. This time, as Grimmjow opened his mouth, I knew what answer to expect.
"I can't do that."
Ding ding ding, congratulations! The grand prize goes to… Kurosaki Ichigo!
"Look, Ichi. I'm gonna be honest here. I don't want to start things up again. I don't want to drag it all up, start all over again, just for it to end the same way. Can you really see us getting out of this fuckin' cycle we've put ourselves in?"
Yes.
"Maybe if you tried a little harder."
I watched as he sighed. It was getting more difficult to hold in, the frustration. I was angry, but at the same time could feel a numbness rising. I wished it to hurry, take me over. I didn't want to get hysterical. Not in front of him. Not like this. I wanted to show him I'd changed. I needed to show him it could be different. But honestly, deep down, I felt like a child throwing a tantrum. I wanted to get my way.
"Ichi, I… Believe it or not, us breaking up was fucking hard on me, too. I don't want it to end again, not like it did. I don't want it to hurt again."
"It already fucking hurts! So why isn't it worth the risk? Even for just a little happiness..."
I really hoped he wasn't looking at me, because despite my soft, careful blinking, tears were beginning to roll down my cheeks. I didn't want to rub them away, alert him to them. I could see he cared about me, even if he wasn't especially good at expressing it. So why, why wouldn't he just let us have another chance? I heard him sigh heavily.
"What if we just work at what we have now? I mean, we've only just started talking again after, what, a month? Maybe we should work at being friends again first and then see-"
"No."
I had given up all composure. I rubbed my sleeve against my cheeks. Sniffed. Laughed a little - a dark laugh I had started using God-knows-when. Since it ended, I supposed. Or perhaps even before then. I had very hazy memories of my past. I looked up at Grimmjow. His face betrayed nothing, as ever, his eyes following my sleeve as I wiped my nose on it. For a second his eyes flickered, and I wondered what he was thinking.
"I can't do that, Grimmjow. I can't just be your friend. I realised it a long time ago. You want to know why? I can't watch you move on. I can't see you with other people. It hurts too much. If I can't have you, I need to find the strength to walk away. I know it sounds harsh, you probably think I'm being ridiculous, right? But I'm just being honest. I can't do that."
"So what, I've got to choose between being with you again, or not having you in my life at all?"
The laughter was back. Oh Lord, I didn't mean to come off so deranged. I guess the situation was really taking its toll on my sanity. I just wanted to feel like I mattered, was that so difficult a request? I wanted him to want me, to need me, like I did him. I wanted to be the most important person to him, like he was to me. I wanted him to choose me, always.
I spurted out a retort. Covered the hurt with anger.
"Is that really such a hard decision?"
I glared at him as his eyes narrowed, continued.
"Y'know, I feel as though I've grown up a lot, since we broke up. But I've realised, I'm still not strong enough to stay by your side and not have you. I'm not ashamed to admit that. I feel I should still be allowed to be a little childish, a little selfish. I mean, what have we got to lose, Grimm? I've already lost everything I-"
"How can you say that? You haven't lost everything!"
He was getting angry now, his voice raising a little, and I felt a bizarre spark of electricity filter over my skin. Was I that pathetic? Pathetic enough that any emotion would do, as long as it is came from him? I tried not to sigh dramatically. Even after all these years, he didn't seem to understand.
I didn't want to have to tell him, but the words formed behind my lips anyway. Things I had always wanted to say. Things that shouldn't be said. I didn't want him to know how weak I was, yet I did. I wanted him to know that I needed him. Because despite my foggy memories, my mind's reluctance to remember, I still knew one fact.
If it had not been for Grimmjow, I would not be here today.
Am I losing my mind?
"I lost you, Grimm! And as hard as it may be for you to believe, for years you were my everything. What do I have if I don't have you? Oh, let's see… A fucking shit job, a few friends who have either already moved away or are going to. How am I supposed to move away and make something of myself when I don't even feel like I'm really alive? I've been floating through these last few months, dosed out of my mind, wasted beyond belief, not sleeping, not eating, not living. Because I don't know how. Not without you. You're always talking about how you're scared of holding me back, but I don't understand why. Are you honestly trying to tell me that you have no idea what you've done for me?"
His eyes were solid on mine, his voice hard.
"No, I don't."
Utter disbelief. Was he being serious?
"YOU SAVED MY FUCKING LIFE!"
I was standing now, breathing heavily, my fists clenched at my side. Was I really that unimportant, now? Was he going to deny it? I couldn't remember that night, that morning. I could only remember the whispered words. The months upon months of an endless struggle. Hospitals, doctors, therapists, wary looks from my father - I had done it all, not for myself, but for Grimmjow. I looked down at my hands as I continued, my voice wavering against my will.
"But… But there's more than just that. If I didn't have you, I would never have moved here. I would never have found a place where I really felt like I belonged. This was the first place that felt like it was mine, ours. That's the thing, you see…" Tears began streaming down my face. I didn't try to hide them. I didn't wipe them away. I just let them fall. If this was the end, I needed to show him everything, show him my honest emotions. I needed him to know how I felt.
"To me, Grimmjow, you are home."
He wasn't looking at me. I wanted him to look at me, see me. I didn't want to be that kid, not again. Not the kid that he kept at arm's length and vice versa. So much had happened since that time. So why did I feel like this? An awful nostalgia. I needed to tell him. Tell him what I couldn't, all those years ago. Show him I was stronger now, by revealing my very weakness. It was an irony I could only hope would work.
"You know what? I feel like I did when we started seeing each other. I'm scared, nervous, but so fucking in love… I hate not knowing what's going on. I mean, you could reject me right now and no one would have a fucking clue. You could leave at any minute and no one would know what I had been through."
It was so strange, the numbness I felt, then. Saccharine. Compared to how hysterical I felt - my stomach twisting in turmoil, my heart racing at the rejection - my mind felt empty. The few thoughts that flitted about were oddly calm; thoughts I would never have imagined myself having. Nothing felt right. The tears that fell no longer fell from hysteria, but from exhaustion. I was so tired. Tired of fighting this losing battle.
Still standing, I flattened my palms against my closed eyes, took a deep breath. I knew what I had to do, now. I would follow the advice of my own alien thoughts. I had to walk away. It was quite apparent, now, what it was that Grimmjow wanted - and it certainly wasn't me. I realised now that he had always been right.
I'd never be good enough.
"I'm gonna go wash my face."
I splashed myself repeatedly with the cold water. Rubbed my eyes. Looked up at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror. This was it. I realised that no matter how determined I had been to get him back, if Grimmjow no longer wanted me, then any resolution of sorts would be nothing but false. Worthless. I had to walk away with the knowledge that I had at least tried. I had managed to put my feelings out there.
Now, I just had to work out how to move on.
Returning to the living room, I grabbed my jacket before taking one last look at the man I had loved for so many years. How was I going to fill the void that his absence would create in my life? Would I have to resort to the same tactics as last time? I knew it was unhealthy. I knew I shouldn't, but I honestly couldn't think of another way. I supposed, at the end of the day, I really had learned nothing.
Grimmjow sat in the exact same state that I had left him in. His linked fingers hid what I was sure was a down-turned mouth. His eyebrows were still pulled together, although he didn't look angry. His complexion was rather pale and, now that I looked a little closer, I could see that he must not have shaved for a while. I felt something pang in my chest. A feeling I had grown so used to over the last few years. I knew what it meant. He was trying to make me remember something.
Why did this look so familiar?
The fact that I couldn't put my finger on it pissed me off no end, and it was only once Grimmjow raised his eyes to meet mine that I realised just how long I must have been staring at him. His eyes looked different now, almost dull, and they widened as I chucked my jacket over my shoulder, said farewell in a quiet voice.
"I'm going, now. Good-bye, Grimm."
I had barely reached the door before an arm flew forwards, a large hand slamming against it, keeping it closed. I stood, frozen, only able to look at that hand. My brain couldn't quite process what was happening. What was going on? I could hear Grimmjow breathing behind me, heavy breaths, as if he had partaken in some sort of rigourous exercise. I still couldn't move.
The hand left my field of vision. I felt a rough grip on both of my shoulders, turning me around, slamming me against the door. I looked down at Grimmjow. He was bent over, his fingers digging into my shoulders painfully, his back heaving. I was about to ask what the fuck he was doing when his eyes raised to mine.
Why did he look like he was in pain?
Grimmjow licked his lips and I felt a few stray tears roll down my cheek. He slowly loosened his hold on me - my arms feeling too light as his hands left them - raised a hand to wipe my cheek. Then his forehead was on mine, his other hand dropping to circle my waist. He whispered against my lips. I felt it, more than I heard it.
"Do you really want to give this another go?"
I nodded, a small spark of hope lighting my thoughts. I had to be sure, though. I had to be sure he couldn't take it back.
"Only if you really want to. If you really want me."
Grimmjow had been so cynical before, of course I was wary. If he was suggesting what I thought he was, then he must have had a full one-eighty change of heart. What had changed, in the last five minutes? I couldn't think of anything notable, and so doubt began to nag at me. What was going on?
"Of course I want ya, Ichi. I... It's always…"
He sighed a little and I couldn't help but chuckle internally at his attempt to articulate exactly how he felt. He had never been good with words. His eyes raised to mine and held their position. My heart picked up its pace.
"It's you. Y'know, I realised something, recently. I'm pretty sure I'll always want ya…"
I felt my eyes widen just a little. I could see it, in those azure depths. Grimmjow wasn't lying. This was the truth. I couldn't quite digest it, the gravity of his confession. Grimmjow had never talked about forever. He had hardly talked about the not-too-distant future. Yet here he was, telling me that he thought he would always want me.
Could someone pinch me?
Just one thing was bothering me.
"But do you want to be with me? I don't want you to do this just to pacify me."
"What, to shut you up?"
His face broke out into a grin and my heart lifted in my chest. This was how Grimmjow should look, always. There was no other expression more suited to the man. This was how things should be, between him and I. Not the harsh trial that had been the last few months. I nodded silently, still waiting for an answer.
"As if that'd work."
Smiling lips pressed against mine and I couldn't help but mimic the gesture. They came and left - small, playful, and dare I say it - happy kisses. It sank in, slowly. This was real. This was real. Elation fought off the doubt and worry inside me, if only for a little while. I pushed myself up to Grimmjow and the arm around my waist pulled me in closer, the playful kisses taking a turn for the serious as I grabbed the back of Grimmjows head, pulling his mouth into my own.
Grimmjow was mine again.
I was pushed back into the door heavily, Grimmjow pinning me to it, his thigh pressing between my open legs, his tongue exploring my mouth as if it had never been there before. The tears continued to fall - not from frustration or anger or hurt as they had been - but from relief. It was over. The fight was over. I felt a smirk tilt my lips as Grimmjow's mouth left mine to taste my neck, his hands holding my hips possessively.
I had won.
Grimmjow pulled back, seemingly with reluctance, his hands leaving my hips to cup my jaw. His thumbs stroked along my cheekbones, his eyes searching mine. I held his gaze. He opened his mouth.
"You sure?"
I had been sure long ago. Now, I just needed him to be.
"Are you?"
He nodded slightly before leaning into me, his tongue darting across my bottom lip before he stole a quick kiss. The words that fell from his lips were low, teasing, arousing.
"Fuck yeah."
He grabbed me by the wrist, dragging me away from the door so he could open it. Barked out one word.
"Bed."
I could only nod as Grimmjow led me to the bedroom, led me to the edge of the bed. There, he stripped me - not hurriedly, as he used to, in our moments of passion - slowly, carefully, his eyes taking in every new part of my body as it was revealed. I have never been particularly ashamed of my body, but the way his eyes roamed my form made me want to cover myself. It felt as though he might eat my soul.
He left me in my boxers and began to undress himself. I watched him, the same way he had watched me. Buttons popped from buttonholes, thick leather fell from loops, fabric pulled away, revealing that most delicious skin. Was this how he had felt, as he had undressed me? I wanted to touch Grimmjow, never stop touching him, absorb him into myself so that he was a part of me, so that he could never leave. It was scary.
Grimmjow flicked the light off, opened the covers. I could barely see him tilt his head in the dark, gesturing for me to get in. I did as I was indirectly told, the freezing cold of the bed-sheets only temporarily uncomfortable, until he joined me, pulled me to his chest, his big arms enveloping me. I rested one arm around his waist, the other against his chest. I could feel his rapid pulse under my fingers.
Then he was kissing me. It was slow and gentle, his fingertips skimming the skin of my ribs and back, my neck. I could do nothing but shiver as I tried to increase his pace, my hips bucking against him against my will. I wrapped a leg around his waist, pulled myself up to try to deepen the kiss. His hands stilled on my hips, stopped me from moving. I almost whined as he left my mouth to speak.
"I think we should go a little slower."
My nails bit into his shoulders unconsciously. I tried not to whine.
"Why?"
He growled as I pressed myself flush against him. I could feel his arousal - I knew he wanted it, and I was willing to give it to him - so what was the problem? His hands gripped my wrists, pulling my arms from his shoulders. I whined a little in my throat. I needed his heat, I didn't know what I'd do if he pulled away now.
"Don't ya think I should earn my way back into yer pants?"
His forehead was on mine, his breathing heavy against my lips. I knew he was losing this particular battle. My voice came out a lot huskier than before as I responded, my nose tilting up to brush against his, my lips skimming the ones in front of them. A ghost of a smirk.
"Can't we have make-up sex, and then you can earn your way back into my pants after?"
One of his hands now held both of my wrists, the other pushing contemplative circles into a hip bone. It was driving me insane, the little touches, the shuddering breaths, the way I needed to touch him but couldn't. The way I needed him to touch me but he wasn't. My hips bucked again as the hand on my hip moved slowly, far too slowly, to my ass.
"That's some fucked-up logic, Ichi."
I used the grip he had on my wrists to pull him closer to me, connect our lips. His instantly parted mine and I was thankful for the small increase in contact. Then his mouth was hard on my own, my head pushed back into the pillow as he rolled me onto my back. One hand still on my wrists, he used the other to tug away my underwear - helped by my eagerly wriggling hips - before divesting himself of his own.
That free hand then travelled my body - from my neck, down my sternum, over my hip, down my thigh, his thumb almost touching me where I needed him to - my hips seemingly out of control as they responded to his touch. I let out a deep moan as he released my wrists, both of his hands now finding purchase on my ass cheeks. Then his cock was grinding against my ass, my own almost-painful arousal barely sated by his stomach.
His stilled again, his grip almost painful and thoroughly arousing. He started to move back but I grabbed him by the hair - desperation clawing its way through the restraints I had forced upon it - dragged his mouth back to mine. I bit into his bottom lip and he growled in his throat, his eyes on mine. I moved my other hand, grasping his wrist, forcing him to touch me. His eyes darkened. I knew I had won.
"Fuck this shit."
Then he was on me in full force. I loved the power I had over him - how I knew exactly what to do to get my way, how I could push him until his restraint shattered - his pure animal attitude seemed only to increase, having been held back for so long. In little to no time, Grimmjow had three fingers inside of me, his teeth harsh and tongue hot against my neck.
I groaned as his fingers retreated. Grimmjow pulled my legs up, up over his shoulders, and then he was plunging into me, giving me no time at all to adjust before starting a brutal pace, the bedsprings screaming their protest. I could barely breathe at all, yet groans passed freely through my lips and into the air. I could hear Grimmjow's harsh breathing even as he forced himself to go faster, one hand on my hip, the other my shoulder.
I couldn't move, Grimmjow had full control over my body - forced me to move with him, down onto him, loud slaps of flesh on flesh - and it turned me on like fuck. This was dirty, beautifully dirty, and was certainly something I would never forget. All I could do was cling onto the bed-sheets in desperation, try to coax air into my lungs.
"Fuck! Yes!"
Oh, and moan like a whore.
It could have been hours, but was most likely minutes, before I came violently, letting free a loud moan. I let go of all my tension as Grimmjow soon followed, an almost breathless sound escaping that perfect mouth. He let my legs down gently and I let out a breath as they started to shake. I struggled to move as they adjusted to being back in a normal position, trying to get myself comfortable as Grimmjow cleaned us up.
Then he was next to me again and I was back against that hot chest, those wet lips back on my own, a languid lip-lock. He kissed my forehead and I felt my eyes droop, exhaustion taking over. As I drifted into well-needed sleep, I thought I heard a half-whisper, a barely-there voice.
"I love you."
Ichigo blinked bleary eyes against the offending sunlight that now filtered through the window. It was morning, he realised belatedly. He yawned as he stretched his aching limbs, his mind trying to fill in the elusive blank that was last night. As his brain slowly connected to his senses, he started to recognise the plain white walls, the awful retro ceiling, the scent of sex and the man that defined it.
Yet there was no one beside him, in that bed. He brushed his hand across the indentation that the other man had left next to him, only to find it cold. His brow furrowing, Ichigo wondered if Grimmjow might have left for work already. He hoped not. He still wasn't convinced, he needed to be sure of what Grimmjow wanted. He thought for a moment that he might be being completely paranoid, but quickly realised that there was nothing he could do about it.
It was up to Grimmjow, now.
Rising on shaking legs, Ichigo moved out of the bedroom, taking time only to pull on his boxers and tee-shirt. He moved slowly, cautiously, towards the living room. His brows furrowed as he noted that the door was closed, when they usually always kept it open. Something didn't feel right. No, this was not right at all.
His breath quickened a little as he reached for the door handle, carefully turning it, his nerves completely on edge. He had a really bad feeling about this. Slipping through the door, he almost jumped at the sight of Grimmjow sat on the edge of the sofa. The older man was chewing on his thumb nail, his eyebrows set in a scowl, his eyes dark.
"Grimm…?"
The older man jumped a little, as if he had not even heard Ichigo enter the room.
"What's going on?"
Ichigo moved towards the other man, taking a seat next to him. Grimmjow shook his hands slightly, quickly looking at Ichigo and then away again.
"Grimmjow… You're scaring me."
Grimmjow looked at the younger man almost pleadingly. Ichigo felt a lump rise to his throat as he realised what exactly was going on here. His fears were about to be proved right, weren't they?
"This can't happen, Ichigo."
"Wh-"
"This. Us. It can't happen. Not again."
Ichigo swallowed heavily, tears already pricking his eyes. His mouth formed a straight line as he tried not to get angry.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Grimmjow?"
"You know exactly what it means!"
Grimmjow was shouting, his fist clenching in the fabric of Ichigo's tee, shaking the younger man roughly. Ichigo wrapped his hand around Grimmjow's wrist, pulling it harshly away from him, his eyes narrowing into a cold look of disgust.
"You're unbelievable, you know that Grimm?"
"Yeah, I'm so fuckin' unbelievable, Ichi, huh? So unbelievable that you believed me! What the fuck was I s'posed ta do, Ichi? Fuckin' turn you away when you're crying? I'm not an animal! I-"
"NO, Grimm. That's exactly what you are!"
Ichigo was screaming now, getting up and into Grimmjow's face, barely repressed rage evident on his own features. He grasped the collar of Grimmjow's shirt, brought his fist back. Thrust it forward with a watery roar.
With a sick crack, Ichigo felt his consciousness reawaken. Blood. There was blood on his hands. He looked down at Grimmjow, who was sat on the floor, a hand covering his nose, blood pouring from underneath it, red rivers down his chin.
"Don't you ever fuckin' talk to me again, you hear?"
Oh God, this ache. He hated it. He wanted to rip him out, the other Ichigo. Rip him out and beat the shit out of him. But he couldn't. He had to live with him, live with what he made Ichigo do. Many a broken nose, an irreparable scar. Amber eyes looked down almost pityingly at Grimmjow, who was now looking back at him in shock.
Hacking briefly, Ichigo spat on the older man, hastily leaving the room to get his shit together and get the fuck out. He managed to get all the way down the stairs and out of the building before he promptly threw up, against the brick wall. He spat briefly before moving to a clean wall, slumping heavily against it.
Fuck.
Tears. Ichigo had hoped he wouldn't have to experience pain like this again for a while. A mere few hours, is that as long as it had lasted? This little daydream, this forlorn fantasy, Ichigo should have known it could never be real. Yet he had let that fickle emotion, hope, trick him again. He should have learned by now not to trust the little bastard.
Ichigo rubbed his raw eyes, and as he removed his hands, all he could see was white.
I woke up to the sunlight streaming underneath the blind, right into my eyes. Fucksake.
Then it filtered, ever so slowly, into my sleep-hazed mind. The dream. I whipped my head to the side, a small wave of relief passing over me as I took in the sight of Grimmjow lying next to me, the covers around his hips, one arm slung over his head. His chest was rising and falling steadily, still in the depths of dreams that I could only hope were more pleasant than my own.
I started to wonder if I should tell him about the dream. I used to tell him everything. It was one of the things I loved about living with him. When we woke up at the same time, I would tell him about what I had dreamt. He would usually mock me, but it was nice to get it out nonetheless. If the dream had been dark, Grimmjow's humour would lighten my chest, make me realise that it was nothing more than my own mind playing tricks.
I didn't want to annoy him, though. He had said he was sure and I wanted to trust him, even if my mind was niggling at me, telling me that it was a little too good to be true. But I deserved this, didn't I? A little bit of happiness, after everything we had been through? My eyes dropped to his chest, my throat burning a little, trying to stop the thought that was rapidly forming in my mind.
That scar says otherwise.
Then Grimmjow was shifting and I moved my eyes to see his open. I tried to smile, but it was weak. Then there was a hand threading through my hair, pulling me down to lay on his chest. I heard his heartbeat slowly rise as he wrapped his arm around me, kissed my forehead. His voice was gruff and sleepy as he wished me a good morning.
"You okay?"
I nodded against his chest, not really sure whether I should answer. I was still conflicted about the dream. After all… Almost everything I dreamt happened, eventually. I decided that that was why I was so on edge. I needed to calm down, it wasn't guaranteed that anything from last night's nightmare would happen. For example, I hadn't punched Inoue after that dream last week.
Unfortunately.
I felt a bit sick. I had quite happily forgotten about that little issue. Fuck. I looked up at Grimmjow, whose eyes were more alert now, and looking right back at me. It was okay, I tried to tell myself. Grimmjow was still here, with me. I moved my hand from his side to reach up for his jaw, my thumb brushing against his stubble. His eyebrows furrowed and he shifted a little, grabbing my hips, pulling me up and on top of him. I rested my chin on his chest, played with the long trails of hair behind his ear.
"Bad dream?"
I felt my eyes widen and hoped to God he hadn't noticed. How the hell had he known?
"Wanna tell me 'bout it?"
His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he didn't want to scare me off. I felt my eyes scrunch up as I sniffed away the stinging sensation. I shook my head against his skin before meeting his eyes again.
"It's okay. You're still here."
Grimmjow nodded briefly before pulling me up again, lifting himself off the bed a little in order to connect our lips. I could feel his abdominal muscles tense against my own, tried to stop my dick from hardening. That seemed like an impossible task, however, as Grimmjow's hands promptly moved to my arse. Then he was moving forwards again, opening my mouth with his tongue, making me moan into his.
"You're too tempting, Ichi."
His large hands massaged my ass, my thighs, slowly made their way up my back, to my neck, my jaw. When he pulled out of the kiss his breath came out in subtle pants, his tongue licking out at my lips, his hands tight around my shoulders. I knew it. I ground my hips into his, kissed along his jaw, revelled in the quiet, breathless moan that escaped him. Let a smirk dance over my features.
"Fuuuck."
I had already won.
I plunged my tongue into his mouth and enjoyed the rare moment in which he didn't fight back, where he let me take control. His tongue met mine and they greeted in their usual way. I scraped a hand down his side, ran my thumb over his beautifully cut hipbone. I lifted my hips from his own so I could wrap my hand around him. He instantly bucked, his eyes on mine, smouldering.
I kissed him again briefly before licking along his jaw, biting along his collar bone. I licked down his chest, my hand slowly working his cock, my eyes staying in contact with his. He was smirking, a dark smile that might have been menacing, had I not known what it meant. He knew what was happening, I knew what was happening, and we both knew we'd fucking enjoy it.
My mouth hovered over his arousal, my tongue flicking out to taste him, my hand cupping his testicles. Oh God, I had missed this. Can I just say that I had never given anyone a blowjob before I met Grimmjow? To be quite honest, I don't think I'd ever give anyone else one. What would be the point? After all, everything was about him - the man currently trying to buck his way into my throat.
I pulled back a little, teased him, and he growled in his throat at his punishment. I smirked around his cock, looking right up at him as I swallowed him down. He rose up to balance on his forearms, one hand thrusting into my hair harshly, trying to keep me down. I allowed him to for a while, swirling my tongue before pinching at a thigh, making him loosen his grip a little. I quickened my pace, revelled in the small reactions I was receiving.
Well, that's just not good enough.
Grimmjow twitched in my mouth and I pulled back. He cursed - looking at me as though I'd just chopped off his dick - and I simply continued to smirk at him. This was so much fun. I didn't say a word, simply pushed my hand to the middle of his chest, pushed him back down to lay on the bed. Crawled over him on all fours. Forced my tongue into his mouth again, forced him to taste himself. His hand tugged on my hair again, his other moving to grasp my hip. He was being far more patient than usual.
I kissed him as I grasped him in my hand again, my arm behind my back as I led him to my entrance. I sat up, looking at him, enjoying the sight of him being beneath me, of having control over him. He looked up at me a little warily as I moved back, unprepared, the only lubrication being my own saliva.
"Ichi- fuck!"
I slammed down on him, arching my back at my own action, at the sound of his voice. We didn't do it very often, but this was the exact reason why I liked to be on top. When it was me putting the effort in, when he didn't have to lift a finger, Grimmjow was very vocal. His hands briefly left my hips before returning to their former positions. I revelled in the slight sting as I started to move. It wasn't that many hours since the last round and I, as ever, enjoyed the pleasure spiked with pain.
"Shit! Yess."
I leant back, my hands on his muscular thighs as I rode him - hard, fast, unforgiving - made sure to give him something he could never forget. His pants and groans and growls only spurred me on further. His fingers dug into my hips and I wanted them to bruise me, leave a scar as proof of all that I could physically give him.
Then Grimmjow's hand moved, up and around my shoulders, and he was pulling me forwards, towards him. His tongue searched for mine almost desperately as he clung to me, thrusting into me as I dropped my body weight. I was perspiring from the sheer effort of such a brutal pace, my damp palms curling into the hairs at the back of his head, snapping it backwards.
"Fff-"
I bit into the flesh of Grimmjow's neck, sucking hard, marking him as he had so often marked me. As I let my teeth free him, I drew my tongue across his jaw, up his chin, to his mouth. One of his hands cupped the back of my head as he deepened the kiss. I couldn't keep it up for too long, my movements becoming urgent, the kiss becoming sloppy, all tongue and gasps and barely any movement but still beyond erotic.
I wrapped a hand around myself, tugging harshly, trying to keep to the rhythm that I myself had created. Grimmjow closed what little distance there was between us, crushing my hand between our stomachs, restricting my movements. He licked out at my jaw, grasped my ass harshly with both hands, helped me move down onto him quicker, harder. Growled against my neck.
"Shit, Ichi. M'comin."
At the rough sound of Grimmjow's voice, the feeling of his fingernails digging into my ass cheeks as his cock twitched within me, I came, spilling myself onto our chests. I slowed to a stop, pushed my mouth hastily against Grimmjow's, tried to regain my strength. My legs were shaking, again. I slowly lifted myself up and off of Grimmjow, brought my arms around his form as I continued to kiss him.
Eventually, the kissing slowed to a halt, until I was barely nipping at his swollen lips. I looked down at him and he smirked back, his eyes glittering.
"That was hot as fuck."
I matched his expression, telling him that I already knew that. I eventually lifted myself completely off him, tentatively stepped off the bed, my legs barely holding my weight. Told him I was going to take a shower. He only nodded, that same smirk on his face, his eyes not quite focusing. I almost laughed at his dazed state, feeling proud. Rendering Grimmjow speechless, my friend, is always an achievement.
I let him watch my bare ass as I left the bedroom.
Half an hour later I left the bathroom - fully dressed and smelling like Grimmjow's bath products - and walked towards the living room, where I could hear Grimmjow talking. I thought about eavesdropping, lingering outside the door for a few moments, but decided to be honest about it. I walked into the room to see Grimmjow collecting the things he would need for the day. He smirked at me in acknowledgement of my presence, and I couldn't help but mirror it.
I listened as he fed someone - Hirako, I presumed - some bullshit about why he was late. He had forgotten something, apparently, and had to come back for it. I tried not to laugh. It reminded me so much of when we had first started seeing each other. I'd stay over at Grimmjow's and we'd end up getting a bit carried away in the early hours of the morning, which led to the later hours of the morning, which led to Grimmjow phoning Neliel, telling her that he had been having 'car troubles'.
I remembered turning up to work together one morning, Neliel looking at us both with innocent curiosity. She had taken Grimmjow to one side, away from me, and so I had gone into the staff room to get ready for my shift. I had been so nervous - thinking she'd figured something out - that I had pulled Grimmjow to one side later on, asked him what had happened. He had laughed before telling me that Neliel had been concerned that his car troubles were stopping him from sleeping, and that if he ever needed someone to talk to, she was there for him.
I felt myself swallowing thickly at the memories of Neliel. I had let her down so much, yet I didn't think I could ever have forgiven myself, were it not for her. After things had calmed down with my family, with my treatment, I had gone into Arrancar. Grimmjow had walked proudly at my side, his fingers linked through my own shaking ones. He had been so supportive, back then.
She had been so angry to see me at first, until she really looked. Then she had taken us both into the staff room, and I had told her everything. I had broken down, crying, the tender stokes of Grimmjow's thumb against my knuckles only making the pain more poignant. I had made sure to apologise to her. I had told her that I didn't expect her to forgive me.
But she had left her seat, walked over to me, knelt in front of where I sat. Grimmjow's hand had left mine as she wrapped her arms around me, her chest hiccuping with sobs. I had tentatively responded, rubbing her back as she cried for a reason I did not understand. I looked worriedly at Grimmjow, shocked when I saw a small smile on his face. His lips had formed words without sounds.
"I told you."
I had tried to speak, my voice coming out cracked as I tried not to start crying again.
"Nel-"
"I'm so sorry, Ichi-chan! I'm so sorry!"
Then she had started full-on bawling, her eyes scrunching up, her hands moving to hide her eyes as she wept openly. I could do nothing but watch her, shocked. I had done such terrible things, things that people should have hated me for. I knew I didn't deserve any compassion. Yet there I was, in a room with my boyfriend who had saved my life, and a woman who was blaming herself for my own stupidity.
"I should have known, Ichi-chan. I should have been there for you!"
"Neliel, this isn't your fault."
I had rested my hands on her shoulders, tried to get her to look at me. Tears had been threatening to spill once again, yet I had pushed forward. I needed to make her understand.
"I should have told you, because you were there for me. But I couldn't. I was too gone. But I'm getting better now, okay? You can stop crying…"
She had sniffled slightly and Grimmjow had passed her a tissue, the small smile still on his face. She had blown her nose vigourously before looking up at me with puffy eyes and the sweetest smile. I really loved Neliel. Sometimes, I had thought that she would have made a great mother. Not that anyone could replace mine. A few months later, she had left Japan. We still kept in contact through occasional emails, though.
I shrugged on my jacket, making a mental note to email Neliel. Grimmjow finally got off the phone, gesturing throwing it against the wall before looking back at me with a crazy grin. I couldn't return the gesture, however. I was trying to prepare myself, trying to get up the guts to bring up a particular subject. One which I would rather not have had to talk about.
I cleared my throat behind my fist and Grimmjow looked at me as if I was crazy. I wondered briefly if that really was something people only ever did in films. In any case, I had got his attention. Now I just had to actually say something.
"What are you going to do about…"
I trailed off, gesturing giant breasts with my open hands, not wanting to speak her name. Something flickered across Grimmjow's face, if only for a second, and I felt my eyes narrow. I didn't like the look of that. Then Grimmjow grabbed his own jacket, walked towards the door, gesturing with his head for me to follow him.
"I'll talk to her."
We walked hand in hand, until the same point as the previous time I had visited him. He kissed me again. I didn't want him to go. I wanted more time with him to talk things over, work out what we were going to do. Alas, Grimmjow had to work, and I had to let go of his hand as we once again parted ways with so many things unanswered.
I walked home with a barely-there limp. I fished out my cigarettes - pushing one into my mouth and moving to light it - when I noticed it. I put the cigarette back in the packet, cupped my hand over my nose. Inhaled. Lifted the collar of my jacket up around my face. I was almost tempted to close my eyes.
I smelled like Grimmjow.
Although I was happy - honestly, I was - I still felt a little weighed down. Not as much as I had been, mind you. It's just, after everything that had happened, all of this really did seem a little too good to be true. Plus, there was still one tiny, severely irritating, thing that needed dealing with.
Inoue.
I started to wonder if I could really make this work, but quickly corrected myself. I had to make this work. I set up a new goal; a new thing to strive for. A new resolve. I was going to make things work between myself and Grimmjow, no matter how hard it was. This time, I wouldn't be fighting for the present, or the not-too-distant future. This time, I would be fighting for forever.
One week later, I hadn't heard from Grimmjow.
A/N: I'm not even sorry...
