Happy Friday!
So many speculations about that gunshot! I wonder if anyone saw this one coming~
The wild coyote took off into the darkness even as the echo from the crack of the shotgun lingered in the cool night air.
"Ah, should've waited for a few more minutes," Kisuke sighed as Tessai turned back with a peeved expression, the nozzle of the gun in the man's hands still smoking.
Juushirou peered at the backdoor with a worried frown. "I still think we should've given them a heads-up before doing this, Kisuke..." he admonished quietly.
Right on cue, the door burst open and two shadowy figures tumbled into the dimly-lit backyard.
"What was that!" Ichigo yelled, rushing out in his usual hot-headed, impulsive fashion.
Kisuke watched in surprise - careful to shield his eyes under the shade of his ridiculous bucket hat - as Jaegerjaques's hand shot out to seize his nephew's wrist. Ignoring Ichigo's yelp of protest, the taller man yanked the boy back and shoved him behind himself, effectively shielding Ichigo with his own body.
Interesting, Kisuke mused, suppressing the urge to raise an eyebrow as he took in Jaegerjaques' narrowed eyes and tightly clenched jaw. The man's body was tense and alert, his feet planted firmly on the ground in a defensive stance, the muscles in his corded arms flexing as though he was facing an enemy that was about to lunge at him at any moment.
And then those crystalline eyes rested on Tessai, who was still holding the shotgun. Kisuke caught a ripple of confusion in Jaegerjaques' gaze before the man asked in a clipped voice, "What happened?"
Kisuke cleared his throat. "We've noticed coyote activity out here recently and thought that we should get rid of them," he replied casually.
"By shooting them?" Ichigo piped up incredulously, peeking his head out from behind his taller companion, whose arms were still spread protectively in front of the boy.
Kisuke shrugged. "We did manage to chase one away, didn't we, Tessai?"
The burly, mustached man nodded sagely without a word.
For a moment nobody else spoke, and it looked as if the incident was resolved and everyone was going to head back indoors now that the coyotes were gone. Kisuke pondered his observations in silence; he wasn't sure what he was truly expecting when he decided to carry out this experiment. Jaegerjaques' behavior had proven intriguing, yet this didn't tell Kisuke much else. It was a bit of a long shot, but Kisuke had been hoping that the sound and sight of a gun would elicit a stronger reaction from the man.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?"
Kisuke froze mid-stride, his reverie cut off abruptly by the sudden outburst by Jaegerjaques. He whipped his head around to see the man still standing rooted on the same spot, face flushed an angry red and lips pulled back in a snarl that could rival a predatory cat's.
"You think this is funny?" The already-brilliant blue eyes gleamed with fury, visible even under the dim lighting. "It's fucking dangerous! What if we'd been out here, huh?"
Ichigo grabbed the larger man, looking a little bewildered, as Jaegerjaques took a threatening step towards Kisuke. "It's okay, Grimmjow, calm down."
"It's not okay!" Jaegerjaques snapped, even though his features softened slightly. "You could've warned us! Do you know how shocked we were? How worried we were? Fuck, I thought-"
Jaegerjaques' breath caught for a second as he paused, frowning as though he was searching for words.
"Yes?" Kisuke said slowly, staring intently at his mysterious guest. "What did you think happened, Mr. Jaegerjaques?"
The man's frown deepened. "How...how would I know? But that's not the point! You scared us half to death! Ichigo was so worried about you..."
Ichigo nodded furiously as his face took on an almost identical scowl. In the meantime, Kisuke kept his eyes locked on Jaegerjaques' until the man looked away with a huff.
Interesting.
"I apologize for that," Kisuke said finally, bowing his head slightly. "It won't happen again."
Grimmjow listened to the steady tick-tock of the wall clock, his eyes wide and alert despite the late hour. Ichigo lay snoring softly next to him, the two of them squeezed snugly under the covers on Ichigo's bed. The boy had spent almost an hour ranting about his uncle's foolishness, but had eventually given in to his exhaustion and fallen asleep, curled on his side with his back pressed flush against Grimmjow's chest.
Grimmjow clutched the corner of his pillow restlessly and bit back a growl. His pulse was still racing, his heartbeat loud and rapid in his chest even though it had been hours since the stupid coyote incident.
He had been so sure that something terrible had happened, that someone had gotten hurt. The sheer panic that had seized him was mind-numbing, but the part that rattled him the most was that, for a fleeting moment, he had felt a sharp pang of déjà vu. There was no other explanation: this feeling of dread and his unusual reaction must be somehow connected to his lost memories, it had to be.
It was frustrating, to say the least. It was so close - whatever it was - he could feel it, just beyond his grasp; that nagging feeling that he was missing something obvious, a chunk of his past.
God, he had never longed for anything so much in his life. He wanted to remember.
He was running.
Running.
Running.
There were footsteps behind him.
He had to run faster.
He ran and ran, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, body pumped full of adrenaline.
He had no idea where he was running to, or why he was running, or who he was running from. He just knew that he had to run.
Run. Run. Run!
His lungs screamed for oxygen as he propelled himself forward. There was nothing ahead and around him, just a blanket of white - no obstacles, no goal, no end that he could see.
Why was he running again?
The footsteps were getting closer. That was all he could hear - footsteps. Someone was running after him, but who was it? He wanted so badly to turn around to look, to find out who he was running from, but he couldn't afford to stop.
Run. He could only keep running.
He lost track of time. How long had he been running? It could be minutes, or hours. He didn't know. He was tired, his limbs becoming heavier with every step he took. He forced himself to continue. Left. Right. Left. Right. His feet hit the ground only to take off again. His knees were beginning to hurt.
Breathe. Run. Breathe.
And then...
He skidded to a stop. Air left his lungs in a painful whoosh as his vision went black for a split second. His chest hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much that he fell to his knees. He clawed at his chest but it was useless. The pain was becoming worse. He couldn't breathe. He tasted bile at the back of his throat.
The footsteps slowed down behind him.
He didn't care. They could have him.
He had no reason to run anymore.
"Grimmjow!"
His head hurt. Someone was shaking him. He groaned softly and frowned. Did he have to run again? Was someone asking him to run?
"Grimmjow! Wake up!"
Grimmjow's eyes flew open as a stinging slap snapped his head to the side. He bolted upright with a gasp, clutching his chest but finding nothing but bare skin.
"What happened?"
Ichigo's near-hysterical voice finally registered in Grimmjow's mind. He grabbed the boy's arms right as another punch came swinging towards him. Relief flooded Ichigo's face at once.
"What the hell happened?" the teen asked, his features still stricken with panic.
"A dream," Grimmjow muttered, more to himself than to Ichigo. "I had a dream."
Ichigo stilled. "What was it about?"
Grimmjow pinched the bridge of his nose and winced. What was his dream about? It was hazy, he remembered nothing but the urge to run. Why did he need to run? He remained silent for a long time and was startled back to the present only when Ichigo placed a tentative hand on his thigh.
"Did you remember something?" the boy asked quietly.
Grimmjow blinked. "Maybe," he replied truthfully. "I...I don't know."
He went silent again for a long time, his mind a turmoil of confusion and inexplicable fear. Was the dream about his past? The more he thought about it, the blurrier it got, and by the time he shook himself out of his stupor again, the dream was so distant that he wondered fleetingly if it had even happened. Running his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, he turned to Ichigo. His stomach immediately flip-flopped when he met the boy's worried gaze. He could tell that Ichigo was afraid - perhaps afraid to find out what he had dreamt about, or perhaps he had scared the kid awake, judging by Ichigo's reaction.
"I'm sorry," Grimmjow murmured, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair in apology.
Ichigo looked uncertain. "You were screaming like you're in pain," he said.
Oh. That would explain a lot. Grimmjow drew the boy close and buried his nose in the jagged orange spikes. "I'm sorry," Grimmjow mumbled into Ichigo's hair. "It was just a bad dream. I'm fine."
He felt Ichigo's arms wrap around his shoulders protectively. He shifted, twisting his body around so that he could give the boy a proper hug, then he pulled away to cup Ichigo's cheek. A faint dusting of pink appeared on the boy's face at once. Curling his fingers under Ichigo's chin, Grimmjow tilted the teen's head upwards and leaned closer until their lips were only a hair's breadth apart. Ichigo blushed several shades redder and peered back at him through thick fans of eyelashes.
Despite his somber mood, Grimmjow felt himself stir at the sight. Ichigo was clearly nervous, yet here he was, blatantly offering himself to Grimmjow, his youthful, untainted body warm and willing and yearning for his touch. Grimmjow would have to be a piece of wood not to be affected.
With that thought in mind, Grimmjow closed his eyes and pressed his lips onto his younger lover's. A tremor of arousal coursed through his veins when Ichigo breathed a soft moan into his mouth, the boy's hands plunging into his electric blue locks as their bodies melded into each other.
"Grimm..." Ichigo whispered against Grimmjow's lips, his voice so quiet that it was barely audible.
"Hmm?"
"Do you want me?"
Grimmjow's eyes widened at the seemingly innocent question. Was Ichigo asking what he thought he was asking?
"Of course I do," Grimmjow replied carefully.
"Good." Grimmjow felt the boy's lips quirk into a smile against his own. "Because I want you."
Grimmjow's belly fluttered as his heart rate skyrocketed again, this time for an entirely different - and a much more welcome - reason.
"Tonight," Ichigo added, his voice becoming even softer - whether from shyness or nervousness, Grimmjow wasn't sure.
"Tonight?" Grimmjow echoed dumbly.
"Right now," the boy nodded, finally opening his eyes to look into Grimmjow's.
Grimmjow met the dark ochre eyes - up close, he could see how dillated the pupils were - and felt another jolt of desire course through his body. God knows he wanted so much to say yes. But want and should were two completely different beasts, and right now...
As he battled with himself inside, he vaguely registered the sound of a drawer being opened and closed, then the next thing he knew, he was knocked onto his back, landing bodily on the mattress with Ichigo's full weight pressing down on him. The boy's breath came in soft, rapid pants; the small, moist puffs of air warm against Grimmjow's face. Ichigo stared down at him, holding a packet of condom carefully between his teeth, brows slightly furrowed in determination.
"Where did you get that?" Grimmjow snorted in surprise, although he had to admit that Ichigo looked downright seductive in that pose.
Ichigo's face reddened. "Stole it from my uncle," he mumbled in an embarrassed tone before arranging his features into a scowl. "I'm not a child anymore," the teen stated firmly. As if to drive that point home further, he ground his pelvis against Grimmjow. The rigid bulge hidden in the boy's checkered boxers was unmistakable.
Grimmjow closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. This was a test of will if there ever was one; and he was failing miserably. Already, his worrying dream was but a faraway memory, shoved aside as his more carnal needs surfaced. As though he could sense it, Ichigo dropped the packet with a quick shake of his head and leaned down to plant soft, brief kisses along Grimmjow's forehead, down his cheek and over his jaw before capturing Grimmjow's lips in a wet, sloppy kiss.
"Ichigo, I..." Grimmjow murmured, feeling his self restraint slip through his fingers under the boy's touches.
A deep, rumbling groan erupted from his throat when a hand palmed his awakening length through his shorts. Where he was lacking in experience, Ichigo was certainly making up for it with his enthusiasm.
"Ichigo, if you don't stop now, there will be no turning back," Grimmjow groaned, unconsciously rolling his hips into his lover's hand.
Ichigo's only response was to tighten his grip on Grimmjow's cock.
That was answer enough, and with a hoarse, almost animalistic growl, Grimmjow became completely unravelled. Clutching Ichigo's shoulder and waist, he flipped them over before the teen could even blink. Ichigo's mouth fell open almost comically, but his grin returned when he sensed the change in Grimmjow's heated eyes.
Grimmjow nudged the boy's legs apart to make way for himself, then he ducked down and claimed the awaiting lips beneath him. He laved his tongue languidly over the delicate skin and moaned when he felt Ichigo shiver against his body.
After giving his younger lover another searing kiss, Grimmjow moved downwards, leaving a trail of licks and nips along Ichigo's jawline, down the slender column of his neck to the dip between his collar bones. From there, he shifted back up to the junction between the boy's neck and shoulder and bit down lightly, growling low in his throat when Ichigo let out a long, drawn moan. Supporting himself on one elbow, Grimmjow ran his free hand along his lover's torso, starting from the lean pectorals down to the boy's trembling abdomen and back up to ghost over a nipple, grinning when Ichigo gasped and jerked at the contact. Grimmjow almost hissed when the teen's prominent erection bumped against his thigh, reminding him of how sensitive Ichigo was and how he was the first to ever pleasure the boy like this.
Then, slowly, carefully, Grimmjow resumed his southward journey, letting his tongue travel along Ichigo's smooth skin, savoring the fresh fragrance from the boy's body shampoo. He blew softly on the slick trail he left behind - enjoying the soft moan that was issued from Ichigo's mouth - and continued down, down, down until he came to the light, neatly trimmed tangerine trail that disappeared into the teen's boxers. He took the waistband of the garment between his teeth and - along with his hands and some help from Ichigo - tugged it down, past the boy's hips and thighs until it was finally flung carelessly to the floor.
The whole time, he avoided the straining length between Ichigo's legs, his hands and mouth touching everywhere but there. After a while, Ichigo's impatience began to show; the teen's fingers snaking into Grimmjow's hair and digging into his scalp, tugging on the blue strands and urging for more contact. Grimmjow let the boy stew, ignoring the silent pleas, and focused instead on caressing Ichigo's inner thighs, rubbing small sensual circles and peppering open-mouth kisses on the pale skin. The teen's thigh muscles flexed and trembled and bumped into Grimmjow's arms until he finally took pity on the boy.
Ichigo's groan came out almost as a sob when Grimmjow dragged his tongue along the underside of his cock, starting from the base slowly up to the leaking tip. There, he lingered, laving and kissing the especially sensitive spot until Ichigo's breaths quickened almost to the point of hyperventilating. Grimmjow drank in the near-frantic mewls and cries tumbling from the boy's mouth, the sounds shooting straight to his already-throbbing arousal and making his own pants heavier. Like Ichigo, his patience was quickly slipping, but knowing that this was the teen's first time made him extra cautious. It was beginning to prove to be near-impossible task, though, from the way Ichigo was writhing beneath him and tugging forcefully on his hair and moaning his pleasure so wantonly.
"Please!" Ichigo cried out through clenched teeth, his legs squeezing around Grimmjow's shoulders as Grimmjow took him in inch by agonizing inch until the head nudged the back of Grimmjow's throat.
From then on, it was a fight between Grimmjow's hands and Ichigo's hips; the boy bucking his hips uncontrollably as Grimmjow struggled to hold him down. Then, right as Grimmjow felt the first signs of Ichigo's impending climax, he pressed a finger - slick with his own saliva - slowly into the teen's entrance. Lost in his mind-numbing release, Ichigo hardly reacted to the intrusion, and it wasn't until Grimmjow had three digits buried in the snug, velvety passage that he let out a hiss of discomfort.
"G-grimm..." the boy whimpered in a strained voice, his nails clawing on Grimmjow's arms in a confused pattern, as though he was torn between pushing the man away and urging him to go faster.
"Almost there," Grimmjow gritted out, his breathing labored from the effort to reign in his own need. He kept his hands busy; one stroking and the other stretching Ichigo until he deemed the boy ready to be taken. And then, finally, as Ichigo's arousal re-awakened, Grimmjow pushed the teen's knees up and further apart and reached for the packet that had been tossed aside earlier.
It took all of Grimmjow's will power not to plunge all the way into the beckoning heat as he felt Ichigo yield to him, the walls hugging him, squeezing him as he sank in slowly. His eyes slid closed as he rolled his hips, keeping his thrusts shallow to let Ichigo get used to the new sensation. The lubricated condom helped, but Grimmjow wanted to be absolutely certain that Ichigo's first time was memorable - in a good way.
Grimmjow's hand left Ichigo's hip to rest next to the boy's head. "You okay?" he murmured as he bent down to nuzzle Ichigo's hair.
Ichigo nodded and arched his neck to bring their mouths together, his features scrunched into a grimace. Yet, at the same time, he was rocking back to meet Grimmjow's hips, allowing Grimmjow to slip in deeper and deeper with each thrust. Rotating his pelvis slightly, Grimmjow searched for the right angle, the one he knew would make Ichigo forget his discomfort entirely.
Grimmjow's reward came in the form of a loud wail that was quickly silenced by his lips, lest the others came running to see who got murdered. Ichigo jerked and bucked his hips, his muffled curses and spasming muscles wringing a moan from the depths of Grimmjow's chest. Finally daring to unleash his full strength, Grimmjow sped up, burying himself again and again in Ichigo's snug, welcoming body without mercy. As coiling heat built in his stomach, Grimmjow wrapped his hand around Ichigo's weeping arousal and pumped, matching the tempo of his hips. Warmth bloomed in his cheeks and chest as he pulled back and watched Ichigo's face contort into one of bliss; the sight more beautiful than anything he could've ever imagined.
There was just one thing missing.
"Say...say my name," Grimmjow commanded - no, pleaded - breathlessly as he felt himself edging closer and closer to the inevitable end.
Eyes fluttering open - the dark pools of molten chocolate locking onto Grimmjow's glacial blue ones - Ichigo complied without hesitation; Grimmjow's name tumbling from his lips in shuddering moans. The mere sound of his own name uttered like that was enough to rip an orgasm from Grimmjow, but he held back with gritted teeth, desperate to bring his lover to completion before he toppled over himself.
He didn't have to wait for long. As Grimmjow delivered another volley of powerful, well-aimed thrusts, Ichigo threw his head back and let out a strangled sob; his thighs clamping tightly around Grimmjow's waist and trapping their sweat-slicked bodies flush against each other as his pleasure crested for the second time that night. Grimmjow managed to cling on to precipice of his own climax only for a few moments more before spilling himself inside his young lover's tight, spasming passage. He gasped, completely spent and out of breath, and collapsed onto his elbows, his body barely an inch away from crushing the teen lying beneath him.
"God...oh god...that was..." Ichigo panted, still clinging on to Grimmjow's upper arm as though to anchor himself.
Grimmjow barked out a laugh. "I'm pretty sure you're thanking the wrong guy," he said teasingly before quickly ducking to avoid a half-hearted swat to the side of his head. Then, in a more tender gesture, he rested his forehead on Ichigo's bangs and placed a chaste peck on the boy's nose.
For the longest time they lay there - chest heaving, foreheads pressed together - before Grimmjow finally extracted himself gingerly from Ichigo. He rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed to remove the soiled condom, then he lay back down and gathered the boy into his arms. Ichigo was already half-asleep, his eyelids heavy even as his cheeks were still tinted a delicate pink.
Fully sated and feeling better than he could ever remember, Grimmjow tightened his hold around his lover possessively and let his body relax.
The dream, disturbing as it was, dissolved into oblivion as he was pulled into the comforting embrace of slumber.
Kisuke stared at the black and white image displayed on the computer screen. The photo looked old, and without the aid of color, he couldn't truly identify the man's most startling feature. The face in the photo was a tad more rounded, the features boyish, yet, the piercing gaze from those large intelligent eyes was unmistakable.
"Ulquiorra Cifer, age twenty six when he went missing," Ishida recited in a cool monotone. "They never recovered his body, though, so the assumption is that he was blasted into bits so small that-"
"I think I get the gist of it, thank you," Kisuke interjected dryly as he massaged his temples.
"Just saying."
Drumming his fingertips on the desk, Kisuke nearly jumped out of his seat when a pair of slender hands landed on his shoulders and proceeded to knead his tired muscles.
"Are you sure we have the right man?" Juushirou asked thoughtfully as he, too, leaned closer to the computer to study the grainy image of Ulquiorra Cifer, which was taken straight from his military profile that had been untouched for years.
"It's the closest match we've found so far," Ishida replied. Then, after a pause, he added carefully, "Perhaps if a certain someone were to exercise his...position, it would be more-"
Kisuke's answer came swiftly and without hesitation. "No. End of discussion."
A weary sigh came from the other end of the phone. "Well, then, do you at least...suspect that this might have anything to do with that?"
"Hah!" Kisuke snorted with a shake of his head. "I daresay the team would not accept anyone who looks as flashy as these people. I would've never..." Realizing suddenly that he was slipping into dreaded territory, he added with a note of finality, "The point is, I'm a retired man and I want nothing to do with the agency. I can only count on you and Szayel."
Ishida chuckled. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful that you have such high confidence in us, Urahara," he said. Then, as the rapid-fire sounds of a computer keyboard began on his end of the line, "I will keep you posted. Till then, have a good day, gentlemen."
"Goodbye, Ishida," Kisuke muttered, his eyes once again glued to the face of the man who had, supposedly, perished during a brutal and unexpected attack four years ago. "And...thank you."
To be continued...
