Had the false alarm that my laptop was physically imploding the other day. However, it was merely the sound of the fan dying and was an easy fix, so I'm rewarding myself and you with an update.

Enjoy Chapter 10!

XxXxXxX

I woke up to my right hand feeling absolute, unimaginable bliss. I couldn't even explain it. It felt warm, but it felt more than that, too. It felt soft skin, but it seemed like more than skin. It was like a fucking cloud of perfection.

I didn't want to open my eyes because I was so fucking scared this was some amazing dream, that when I woke up the sensation would be gone and I'd be left cold, empty, and alone.

Something resituated on my chest, and that finally encouraged me to awaken from this bliss. Please don't be a dream, please don't be a dream, please don't be a dream.

Upon opening my eyes the first thing my eyes immediately landed on was Ichigo. His belly was on my belly, and his orange hair was slightly disheveled from sleep. It was pointing in numerous directions, and the only word I could think of to describe it was "beautiful."

But then I looked down a little more, and I realized the beauty of his hair didn't even compare to the beauty of his face.

His cheeks were a rosy, bright red, and he had the most embarrassed look on his face I had ever seen. I didn't even realize his face could look like that. I liked it.

I liked it a lot.

Ichigo gazed up at me and saw that I was awake, and that just seemed to make his cheeks redder.

I was still hazy from sleep, and I slurred, "Wut? Wut's goin' on?"

I heard Ichigo swallow, and he shifted slightly on my body. The movement went straight to my cock, and it was then I realized I was hard.

Was this the typical morning wood, or something else?

Well…this was awkward.

"U-Um…" Ichigo avoided my gaze. I thought he was going to call me out on my boner, that that was the reason he felt so embarrassed.

But then I made the motion of taking his chin into my hand, and I suddenly stopped in my tracks. I didn't move one muscle. My brain went to a screeching halt, and I backtracked a couple of steps.

Wait…Wait…Where was my hand right now?

My right hand was still surging with warmth and bliss and perfection…so what was the source?

I followed the length of my arm to find the location of my hand. Suddenly my eyes were wide, wider than I think they've ever been, and my cheeks flushed with flaming red.

Sometime during the night my hands had scurried under Ichigo's clothing. The left hand, the more innocent hand, was resting on his lower back, the pointer finger barely slipped beneath the waistband of his shorts. The other hand…I closed my eyes and worked to calm my breathing…

The other hand was now nestled comfortably between his underwear and left butt cheek.

As I finally fully understood the situation my mouth opened, and I gaped like a floundering fucking fish. O-Oh god.

Now both of our cheeks were burning red, and god help me I still hadn't moved my hand. It was like it was frozen in place, but from heat. It was just so fucking warm. It was so damn comfortable, and it wasn't listening to my brain. I was screaming at it to move. Why the fuck wouldn't it move?

Ichigo spoke up. "U-Um…Grimmjow..?"

I swallowed. Blood was flooding into my cheeks and genitals. "Uh, u-uh…" I gulped awkwardly, and I knew Ichigo was waiting for me to move it. "Y-You have a…" I cleared my throat. "A really nice ass."

My hand instinctively squeezed his butt cheek, and I nearly drowned in self-loathing. Did I have any self-control? Fuck.

If that was possible Ichigo's cheeks grew even redder. "T-Thanks, but…u-um.."

He didn't finish his sentence and finally, fucking finally, my hand understood whom it belonged to. I slowly pulled it out, removing it from the spectacular place it had made it's home.

I cleared my throat, ignoring how cold and desolate my right hand now felt. "S-Sorry about t-that…"

Ichigo nodded, cheeks still a deep crimson. "It-It's okay." He got off of me and stood. My entire body ached for him like it's never ached for anyone. "I should get going now."

My immediate reaction was to protest. Why did he have to leave? Was it because of my hand's betrayal? It'll never happen again I swear just stay with me.

None of those words made it to my vocal cords. I was disappointed, but I understood.

I got out of bed as he changed into his own pants. I remembered Ichigo's t-shirt from last night, that had been ripped by that fucker Barragan. "You can keep the shirt."

"T-Thanks." He still hadn't recovered from my hands' promiscuity, but he was taking it better than I'd expected. I was scared there'd be anger, screaming, something. Ichigo was the most attractive person I've ever met, and I couldn't imagine all the inappropriate advances he has received.

But mine wasn't my fault, I was asleep.

After he dressed I reluctantly led him to the door. I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I grasped at straws to think of a distraction.

I leaned against the doorframe of the now open door, still holding Ichigo's attention. "C-Can I offer you a bottle of water to go…or, or something?"

The corners of his lips rose in amusement, and he shook his head. "No thanks." His steps brought him farther away from me, and he crossed the threshold. He waved. "See ya."

I was so sad he was leaving I almost forgot to say goodbye. "Bye!" I belatedly yelled to him as he walked down the stairs.

After he was out of sight I closed the door, and I leaned my head against it. I breathed a deep sigh, annoyed with him and annoyed with myself. 90% myself.

Why did I have to react like this? Ichigo left, and all that runs through my head is, "Is he leaving to perform his job? Is he going to sell his body to a fucking pervert? Is he going to get raped?"

I reared back my head and slammed it into the door. Ugh! Why did I have to be like this? I was so fucking disgusting. Why did I always have to assume he was leaving to go do his job? Couldn't I think of anything else?

Fierce jealousy seeped through my veins as I thought of his clients. Every time Ichigo accepted a client's advances he hurt himself, and it became another mental scar he had to live with.

They had all been with Ichigo, but none of them felt the way I felt about him.

I swallowed, and I took another deep breath. I pushed off the door, walking into my living area.

I absently looked out the window, shoving my hands into my pockets. The more I thought about it the more my resolve grew. If I wanted Ichigo to heal, to be happy, then his lifestyle had to stop. I would have to convince Ichigo to stop being a prostitute.

From my viewpoint through the window I could see Ichigo walking away from my apartment complex and toward the poorer side of the city. He strode with confidence. His back was straight, his stride long, but what lurked within him was darker, more primal. He was always on the defensive, ready to strike if threatened. I had to keep him safe, I had to steer him away from prostitution. It was a great idea, but would his pride allow it?

I watched him until he turned the corner.

I guess we'll find out.

XxXxXxX

A week later and I was working in my office, typing up a manuscript for the sales rep. Ichigo and I had been texting a lot throughout the day today, and I was feeling oddly happier than usual.

There was a knock on the door, and I voiced them entrance.

I'd been expecting Hinamori with her awkward and unwanted displays of affection, but who greeted me instead was Stark Coyote, the boss of this branch.

"Yo," he said, lazily waving in my direction. He closed the door behind him and walked farther into the space.

He'd never visited me before, so I was inevitably curious. "Hi. What brings you here?"

He sighed, plopping heavily into the chair Nnoitra usually occupies.

Stark spoke, voice sullen. "I need a favor. Do you have a copy of that sheet I'm supposed to send over to billing? I can't find mine anywhere."

Of course he couldn't. Lazy fucktard. This guy would be so much better if he actually put effort into his work.

"Yeah, I have a copy at my apartment. I'll bring it tomorrow."

Stark made an awkward grimace. "Yeahh, about that."

My eyebrow twitched, and I stared at him.

He continued. "The due date is tomorrow morning, and I don't want to look like a good-for-nothing and turn it in right at the deadline."

Then maybe you shouldn't misplace your shit.

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, took another deep breath.

I nodded. "Alright. Then do you want me to go get it now?"

He waved his hands in disapproval. "No no, no need for that. I'm gonna send someone to pick it up from your apartment tonight."

Send someone to my apartment when he could just do it himself? The epitome of lazy.

"Alright, I'll have it ready."

Stark nodded, sighing in relief like a heavy burden was just lifted from him. "Thanks, Grimmjow. Appreciate it."

"Yep."

He began to leave the office, but just as he walked through the door's threshold he turned around. "Oh yeah, one more thing." I looked up. "Your boss at the other branch called earlier today. You'll probably be transferred back over soon."

My eyes immediately widened, and I had a glorious grin on my face. Really? That's great! I don't have to deal with this shitty Nnoitra anymore, or endure Hinamori's awkward pick-up attempts. I could finally get back to working with people that truly excelled at their job and wanted to better themselves. Gosh, I couldn't wait to tell Ichigo.

My heart skipped a beat, and slowly my smile fell. I...I wanted to move, but...but...Ichigo...

Stark departed, and I stared at the door that now separated us. What the hell was going to happen now? Would I have to leave Ichigo? Was this how we had to part? But...But I didn't want to part. I wanted to stay with him forever.

What was I supposed to do if my lifestyle dictated otherwise?

XxXxXxX

At 8pm I got a text from Nnoitra saying he was on his way to pick up the billing information.

I had it stacked and ready to go on the kitchen counter, prepared to give it to him so I could shove him back out the door immediately after. I wanted to think of a solution to my transfer, and I didn't have time to deal with his shit today.

Today was a Wednesday, and Ichigo had once explained to me that Nnoitra was one of the many that purchased him on a set schedule (that had been why he was always asking me what time it was. He had clients to attend to). Nnoitra bought him every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and often times on the weekend as well.

Ichigo and I hadn't texted since I got off work, so I sincerely hoped he had already finished with the fucker.

I dicked around for a half-hour, and at 8:40 a loud knock boomed through my apartment. I rolled my eyes, setting my beer down on the kitchen counter before walking over and yanking the door open.

A smirking, way-too-fucking-happy Nnoitra presented himself, and I almost punched his bitch face merely on principle.

"Heya, Grimmie—."

"Grimmjow."

His ever-present grin remained. "'Scuse me, Grimmjow. I hope it's okay that I brought a visitor. Stark didn't…time his request very well."

I cocked an eyebrow. What the fuck was this shit talking about? A visitor?

It was then I looked down to see Nnoitra's hand was clasping a thin wrist that didn't belong to him. The owner's body was out of sight, and pieces of the puzzle were slowly starting to click together.

Nnoitra pulled on the wrist, bringing the body into view.

I stared in awe at Ichigo as he stared at the floor. I'd known Ichigo would be with Nnoitra on Wednesdays, but of all times fucking now? Fuck.

I was quick to notice something was off. Ichigo looked different, really different. This wasn't the Ichigo I was used to. His cheeks were flushed, and he deliberately let his orange hair fall fully over his eyes. He wasn't wearing his jacket, and was instead merely holding it.

He blatantly refused to make eye contact with me. His lips were sealed tightly shut, and it was clear he wasn't intending to greet me. Why? Why was he doing that? Did I make him angry? Did he dislike that Nnoitra and I interacted with each other like this?

If so…rest assured I hate it even more than you, Ichigo.

I pulled the door aside, allowing them entrance.

Nnoitra led Ichigo into the room, guiding him by the wrist. I wanted to yell at him and stab him with a javelin for treating Ichigo like a dog, like a possession.

I didn't, though. As much as I despised both Nnoitra and Ichigo's profession I didn't say anything, and I grabbed the documents I was supposed to get to Stark.

I didn't want Nnoitra to make himself too comfortable in my apartment. "Here," I growled. I hated Nnoitra. I hated Nnoitra so much I wanted to stab his eyes out and force them down his throat. I wanted to cut off the hand holding Ichigo's wrist and beat him to death with it.

Nnoitra took the documents with the unoccupied hand, barely glancing at the first page. "Aw, thanks Grimmie."

"Grimmjow."

"'Scuse me, Grimmjow."

I almost wanted to tap my foot impatiently. "That all you need?"

Nnoitra walked him and Ichigo farther into the room. Ichigo's head was still down and avoiding me, and they both sat down on the sofa.

I hated that Nnoitra was making himself comfortable in my apartment, but…but if it let Ichigo stay a little longer, then I couldn't complain.

Maybe I could also figure out what was so weird about Ichigo tonight.

With my view from the kitchen I took the time to observe Ichigo more closely. I still couldn't see his eyes. His cheeks were bright red and his mouth was clamped shut. His jacket rested in his lap, his hand fisted in the material. Even from this distance I could tell he was shaking.

What the fuck was going on?

Nnoitra undid his grasp on Ichigo wrist, moving his hand to snake along the kid's inner thigh. Nnoitra smirked as Ichigo let out a low moan, dipping his head forward to further hide himself.

Wait, wait…I blinked in astonishment as my cheeks turned a light pink. Did Ichigo just moan?

My eyes widened, and I tried to get a glimpse of the front of his pants. The jacket was still firmly held in his lap.

Was Ichigo…was Ichigo aroused?

That would explain the red cheeks and blatant avoidance. That would explain why he was covering himself. But the question was why was he aroused? Holy fuck.

Gods, but I was glad I was standing behind the kitchen counter. Knowing he was aroused kind of made me aroused…

"Nnoitra," I growled, and the man whipped his head around to grin at me.

"Grimmie, my apologies. I'd forgotten you were there. Please, come join us."

I snorted. "Hell no. You got what you needed, now get out." I tapped the glass on my gold watch. "Stark is expecting that tonight." I wanted Ichigo to stay, but what I wanted even more than that was for Ichigo to not be molested.

Nnoitra groaned and pouted. He looked at the clock on the wall, then at the documents in his hand. There was no point in disagreeing with me; I was right.

A long moment passed before he sighed, groaning in acceptance. "A'ight, a'ight, I'll go."

He turned to Ichigo, and despite his disappointment it was clear he was having too much fucking fun. He's leaving, why is he so damn amused?

"Looks like I'm gonna have to end it early with ya. Had lots of fun, though." He pulled dollar bills from his pocket. "Here's a generous tip to do you-know-what." For a split second his gaze was serious and deadly. "You'll do it…correct?"

Mouth glued shut, Ichigo nodded his head clumsily and furiously.

"Good." Nnoitra grasped Ichigo's crotch through the crumbled jacket in his lap. The kid let out a muffled moan, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling it more.

The grin was back on Nnoitra's face, and he petted Ichigo's cheek. I barely withheld my growl. His voice lowered in volume a bit when he said, "When I leave you can spit it out, and not a second before."

With that Nnoitra stood, and I was stunned into silence by their entire interaction. What the fuck was going on? What's you-know-what? What's Ichigo going to spit out?

Nnoitra did a stupid gay-ass "toodaloo" before heading to the door and leading himself out.

The second the door shut behind him Ichigo was off the couch. His sprint was also a slight limp, but he moved at lightning speed in the direction of my bedroom.

He disappeared past the door's threshold and I ran in after him, my body on fire. Twenty thousand alarm bells were going off in my head, and I didn't know what to think of any of this.

All I knew was that Ichigo was here, and I was damn well going to make sure he was okay.

By the time I made it to the bedroom the sound of Ichigo vomiting filled my ears. I ran to the adjoining bathroom to see him kneeling in front of the toilet, his body huddled over the porcelain bowl.

"Ichigo, what happened? Are you okay?" I immediately walked farther into the room and reached out to touch him. He flinched violently and shrank back, and I pulled my arm away like it'd been burned.

What was happening? What did Nnoitra do? Why was Ichigo acting this way? Neither of us were particularly affectionate with touches or pats on the back or shit like that, but he'd never reacted to me like that. For the few times I did touch him it didn't bother him. It had never scared him.

So why now?

Ichigo was just spitting into the bowl now, thankfully the worst of it over. I didn't try to reach out again. I merely stood there beside him, ready to be there at the first sign of need.

Ichigo was breathing heavily. He wiped an arm across his mouth, and he slowly stood from his kneeling position. He flushed the toilet, and I stepped out of his way so he could walk to the bathroom sink.

I hadn't just been imagining it, either. Ichigo was limping.

"Ichigo, what's going on?" Rage churned in my belly, and I growled. "Did he hurt you?"

He barely put in the effort to shake his head "no" before he turned the faucet on. If he wasn't injured then why was he limping? Ichigo spat into the sink, scraped at his tongue with his fingernails, gargled obscene amounts of water. He did fucking anything and everything to get whatever was in his mouth out.

Yet I still didn't understand why.

Ichigo's chest was moving up and down and he finally, finally, spoke. "Come."

I immediately moved to stand beside him.

Ichigo shook his head. "N-No."

I was trying so damn hard to understand. I bent down to be at eye level with Ichigo, and for the first time all night I could look into his eyes.

They were like nothing I was expecting.

His pupils were full-blown dilated, and his eyes were rimmed with red. His eyes actually looked intimidating, and the chocolate and caramel was almost completely overwhelmed by black.

But then I remembered the front of his pants. Ichigo…Ichigo had been aroused.

I looked down and saw that he still was.

Well that explained the limp, but...how...how could he remain aroused even while vomiting his fucking guts out?

Something wasn't adding up here.

He was aroused, but he also looked disgusted beyond belief, and his eyes were glistening with water. "Cum. Nnoitra's c-cum in…in my mouth." His bottom lip trembled.

I finally understood, and I couldn't hide the look of utter revulsion. Nnoitra, you motherfucking fucker. That was absolutely repulsive. How long has Ichigo had to keep that in his mouth?

"I'm so sorry. That's…that's fucking disgusting. I'm so sorry."

"I'm hard." He sounded like he wanted to sob, and he tentatively grabbed at the front of his pants. "I-It hurts. I'm so goddamn hard."

Why did he look so sad, so desperate? His arousal was oddly arousing, but his pain…that was 100% not.

My own distress was palpable, and I wanted to reach out to him. "I really don't understand what's going on, Ichigo. What happened?"

He didn't look at me, and he draped a hand over his face. "Nn-Nnoitra. He said y-you had to. H-He said I c-couldn't do it myself. P-Please…" He clenched his eyes tightly, dipping his head forward.

I was desperate with worry. I couldn't remember a time so many fierce emotions had run through me. "Tell me," I exclaimed, and I could hear how frantic my voice sounded.

He swallowed audibly. "Please don't be grossed out."

I didn't miss a beat. "I won't be."

He looked into my eyes for verification, and what he saw there must have reassured him. With shaking hands he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. I could feel myself staring at the visible hump in his boxers.

Oh gods, oh gods…even through his boxers his erection was so clear.

My own erection was suddenly making its presence known, and I cleared my throat awkwardly.

Ichigo moved the waistband of his boxers down, and my heart jumped up into my throat. Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

He pulled the underwear down to his thighs, and I was presented with a massively hard cock. A device was wrapped tightly around the base of his penis, and it took me only a moment to identify it as a cockring.

Nnoitra…this had come up in conversation before. Nnoitra had asked if I thought he should buy Ichigo a cockring.

He went through with it, the fucker actually went through with it.

I was going to cut his dick off and shove it down his throat next time I saw him. That bastard.

He was a bastard, but, but…I swallowed, feeling the blood rush to my penis. Fuck. This left me with a very interesting situation.

Ichigo had his eyes closed shut, and he muffled a moan with his forearm. Removing his penis from its confinement must have felt very...freeing.

I gulped. My cheeks were hot with blood, and I couldn't look away.

I'd never been so turned on by a person's body in my life.

And what I saw on Ichigo's face was no longer sadness or shame. No, it was far from that. I held in my breath, glancing between his dick and his eyes.

His eyes…they were lustful. Lustful and longing and looking only at me.

The desperation in his gaze was endless, and crushing, intense desire welled up within me. I was absolutely, without a doubt about to explode with lust.

"G-Grimm-jow," Ichigo whined, taking a step forward until we were mere inches apart. He clawed faintly at my chest while his other hand hesitantly gripped his erection. "P-Please..."

I swallowed the drool that almost dripped out of my mouth. It wasn't fair that I was having so much fun with this. Why was I having so much fun with this?

I got cocky, so damn cocky. I pulled his hand away from his dick and replaced it with my own. My grasp was firm and steady. It felt…invigorating.

Ichigo's responsive moan made my ears ring in ecstasy. I could feel myself smirking as I asked innocently, "Please what?"

His cheeks were flushed a bright red I'd never seen before. "Pl-Please take it o-off."

I played and teased the base of his cock, and Ichigo bucked his hips into my hand. "F-Fuck." His eyes were squeezed tight and sweat dripped down his temple.

I leaned forward until my lips lightly grazed his ear. He shivered.

I spoke with a husky voice. "Kiss me and I might take it off."

I was horrible. I was the worst. But as I stared down into Ichigo's lust-filled eyes all I could think of were his lips on mine.

He couldn't think straight either (fuck, I was fucking taking advantage of him), and he crashed his lips into mine.

Thousands and thousands of sensations immediately overcame me. Fuck. I was burning up. I was so hot I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

How long had I been dreaming of these lips? How long had I fantasized about his bright orange hair, chocolate and caramel eyes, perky nipples, and fucking plump and edible lips?

We could finally share our first kiss and it was under circumstances like these?

There was too much heat in my pants for me to complain right. I involuntarily moaned into his mouth, savoring the feel of his lips against mine. They were so moist, so soft, and I slyly slid my tongue between his teeth.

Our tongues danced together in a heated battle. Ichigo arms were wrapped around my neck. One of my hands was fisted in the back of his hair while the other slid up and down along his hard cock.

His wanton moans and whimpers were making my knees weak and my pants so tight I thought I was going to break out of them.

I broke the liplock, trailing heavy kisses along his jaw. "You are so beautiful," I murmured. I lightly bit his ear, tugging on the cartilage, and a sharp gasp escaped him.

"P-P-Please," Ichigo whimpered. I looked down at his weeping member, red from the buildup of pressure. Precum leaked out, and I wanted to bend at the knees and suck him dry.

Instead I reached behind him and grabbed a handful of his bare ass. He gasped, and I eagerly squeezed the round cheek.

"Do you like that?" I asked.

Ichigo nodded eagerly. "Yes, y-yes, fuck, p-please…"

I licked the tip of his nose. I asked again, "Please what?"

I advanced my hips forward, running my clothed cock into his bare one. Whatever he was going to say died in his mouth, and he doubled over, his forehead landing on my shoulder.

He was panting hard. "A-Ah…I…"

I teased him at both sides of his body, one playing with his cock while the other now settled between his cheeks. "Hm?"

His fingernails left imprints in my skin. "T-The ring, p-please…ah…"

"You want me to take it off?"

"Y-Yes, ple—ah…" His pleas were interrupted by a groan. I had rested a finger ever-so-lightly against the rim of his hole.

I didn't enter, though. I had teased this beautiful boy enough, and I was so goddamn hard I honestly couldn't take much more myself.

I smirked. "As you wish."

I cupped his balls teasingly before resting a firm grip on the cockring. Ichigo inhaled sharply, and with one swift tug I freed him from his restraint.

Moans escaped Ichigo's pretty lips, and his hand immediately went to his cock to finish himself off. I stopped him with a lightning-fast hand.

I purred, looking into his dark eyes, "Allow me." I spun him around, pressing his back flush against my chest. I reached around, took him into my palm and pumped.

Ichigo moaned loudly, his breath quickening. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around my neck. His mouth latched onto my neck like a leech. I was so goddamn fucking turned on it wasn't even fucking funny.

It wasn't long before Ichigo came, and the part-moan, part-scream he released made an explosion of sensation run through me. I grunted, and I came, too.

Semen spilt in my boxers, and Ichigo's was splattered over his shirt. We rode out our orgasms with a hot, messy kiss, our tongues and teeth licking and biting at each other.

This was such an amazing moment. With all my previous sexual partners I had never felt so united before. Kissing had never been so much fun. It was weird how right this felt. I wanted moments like this to last forever.

It was more than lust, too, it was more than the sexual act. It was something…deeper. Something I couldn't name, but I hoped in time that I could.

But as my hormones died down reality slowly replaced it. I pondered my actions, my perversions, and I began to understand just how horribly I had fucked up. Nnoitra had forced Ichigo to wear the cockring, and he had forced Ichigo into his arousal. I had taken advantage of the situation. I was exactly like Nnoitra.

I hated myself, felt disgusted for doing this to Ichigo, but I couldn't move. My hands rested low on his hips now, and Ichigo hadn't moved from his position. We weren't kissing, our faces now mere inches apart. I stared into his eyes as he stared into mine. He seemed stunned, but I was so glad it wasn't more.

Soon, though…soon the wrath would come. Because I was disgusting, I deserved it. I had hurt him.

The spilt cum in my boxers still stuck to me uncomfortably, but it was a distant realization. All I could focus on was Ichigo. Ichigo, who was looking into my eyes with an emotion I couldn't come close to identifying. It looked like he regretted what happened, but also like…something else. Like there was more to it.

I continued staring into his eyes. I wanted so badly to decipher the enigma that was Ichigo.

His mouth moved, and my gaze shifted to watch his thick lips. They were still moist from us kissing.

"This shouldn't have happened," he whispered, his breath tickling my mouth. His bottom lip trembled.

I closed my eyes, barely hanging my head in shame. Our foreheads touched. "I'm sorry. I-I fucked up…"

He shook his head against mine, but he looked like he was holding back a sob. He didn't speak, just kept shaking his head back and forth. I felt crushed, devastated.

Why was I such a horrible person? Why did I have to be me?

I groaned, and now I was fighting back tears, too. "Ugh, this was all my fault, I'm really—"

"No."

I looked up to meet his gaze again, and his eyes were sad. He took down his arms from around me, and he pulled himself off my chest. He created distance between us. He swallowed, voice raspy. "T-This was my doing. I asked you to do it."

I shook my head, angry. "That's not true, that was Nnoitra, Nnoitra. You did nothing wrong."

He wasn't paying attention to me anymore. I stared as we both simultaneously noticed that his boxers were still pooled at his thighs. I hated myself for getting hard at the sight, and with desperate hands Ichigo pulled his clothes back up. His cheeks were tinted a light pink, and I could tell he was ashamed.

But this wasn't his fault, he had nothing to be ashamed of.

"Ichigo, c-can we talk about this please?"

He still wasn't listening. He glanced down at the cum on his shirt, gave a look of disgust, then tossed it off his lean torso. He escaped the bathroom and shuffled around my drawers, finding a white T-shirt to pull on.

It had become a habit I loved that he fell into. When he would come to me with ruined or ripped clothing (courtesy to clients) I'd always give him a spare of mine. He always took it graciously, and after a while he got used to grabbing it himself. I'd actually intentionally stock up on the brands I noticed him grabbing more. It made me feel helpful, like I was doing him a good deed no one else could. On a certain level, I think it also made me feel special.

Would that continue in the long-term, now that I had demeaned him so horribly?

I swallowed audibly. I had left the bathroom to follow closely behind Ichigo. After he put on the shirt he didn't waste any time in almost sprinting to the exit. His stride was long and with purpose, and I knew if I didn't do something fast he'd walk out of my apartment and possibly right out of my life.

I quickly caught up with him, grabbing a thin wrist. "Wait, please."

He yanked himself out of my grip, and I stopped following him. My feet felt weighed down by pounds of cement, and I could feel my hope crumbling.

But I couldn't give up. Not yet. I couldn't give up the one person I cared for more than anyone else.

I would not lose.

"Ichigo," I called out. My voice was strong and resolute, nothing like how nervous and uneasy I felt.

He turned to look at me then. I tried not to notice how dull and broken his expression looked.

I hoped I was doing the right thing. Gods, I hoped I was doing the right thing... "I'm sorry about what happened. You didn't deserve any of that, I swear. Nnoitra's a disgusting little shit that used your job against you, made you do something you didn't want to. But, but..." I swallowed nervously. I noted Ichigo's expression still hasn't changed. "But I know a way we can ensure a situation like…this, doesn't happen again." His eyes squinted in confusion then, and I didn't back down. "You quit your job."

Several long moments passed. Everything was dead silent save for the fierce pounding I could hear beating inside my chest. How would he react? Would he understand my perspective, would he understand how much this—he—meant to me?

He stared at me for the longest time. Then, when I thought he'd say nothing, he scoffed. "Stop fucking around, Grimmjow." He sounded angry.

It was then I should have stopped fighting against him. This was his only source of income, so of course he wouldn't give in easily. I shouldn't push this on him so quickly; I should just slow down and give him time.

I should have shut my fucking mouth, but I was an idiot, so I didn't.

"I'm being serious, just hear me out." I took a step forward. "You don't have to live like this anymore, just live with me. I can provide for you. You'll never go hungry, you'll never have to degrade yourself ever again. And your sister Yuzu likes me a lot, right? She'd like that. They'd both like that. I have a lot of money, Ichigo. I can give you everything you need. I can make you happy, I can give you the life you deserve—"

A loud slap resonated through the room. My face was twisted sharply to the side, and I stood in stunned silence.

My cheek burned, and I turned to face Ichigo.

His hand was still held up, and his eyes glistened with thick tears.

His voice shook. "I'm not some weak damsel in distress that needs saving. I'm not some weak kid that's too pathetic to take care of his family."

He took a step forward, and he shoved a strong hand into my chest. "I left my sisters, Grimmjow. I left them for two years. They had to be taken in by a family from the foster system because I hadn't been there for them." His nose crinkled, and his bottom lip trembled. "I will not abandon them again. My sisters belong to me, and I will take care of them."

A tear dropped from his eye, glistening in the fluorescent light of my living room. His entire body was quaking, and even the slightest push looked like it'd knock him over. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. My bones had turned to jello. I was weak, I was nothing.

I had lost.

He walked away several steps then stopped. His back faced me, and I could see his shoulders visibly shaking. He barely turned his head to gaze at me, and I would never forget that look in his eyes.

His voice was low and desolate, and it sounded like he was going to cry. "Don't contact me."

He took a step forward, then another, and soon he was at the exit.

The door slammed behind him, and my legs gave out as I fell to the floor.

How…How had I messed up so horribly?

Even after he left the horror movie replayed over and over, thousands of times. I stared at the door long after he'd gone.

I felt both sadness and emptiness. I felt everything horrible but at the same time nothing at all. My entire body was numb. I desperately looked to my fridge, remembering its contents. There were beer bottles in there. Lots of them.

I stopped thinking. That night was the first night I got drunk.

XxXxXxX

Hope it was an enjoyable (maybe semi-dramatic?) chapter. Until next time!