I don't even know if this story has any form of continuation anymore. It's been such a long while since I updated, either way, thank you so much for reading and reviewing so far! :D

Disclaimer; I don't own Bleach or any of the characters.

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A gentle touch on his forearm was what woke Grimmjow from his uncomfortable slumber. Blue eyes blinked and narrowed, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. As a matter of fact, it took Grimmjow a couple of moments to realize that he was in the plane and that something was caressing his forearm tenderly. Rubbing the back of his sore neck, the blue-haired man finally turned his head to the side, only to see a pair of chocolate brown eyes watching him. The angel wore a rather fond smile on his face, his hand now on Grimmjow's bicep.

"Wakey-wakey," he said softly, "We're landing."

Grimmjow grunted and captured that delicate hand between his larger ones, bringing it to his lips and kissing it a few times before sighing in contentment. Excuse yourselves, he was more than glad to see an angel - his angel - first thing after he woke up.

"You slept well?", Ichigo added.

"Mn, not really," he replied, linking their fingers. "The seat is not comfortable. You?"

Ichigo stroke the top of Grimmjow's thumb with his own. God bless; the world needed more people like that. "I did sleep for a bit but I've been studying the past hour."

"Oh God, I hope you won't start studying when we'll be in Paris."

The sly smile that took over the other's face had Grimmjow's stomach tumbling. "Well, if you manage to keep my attention away from the books..."

The blue-haired man had to gape for a few moments before he collected himself. He shook his head in amusement, a little breathless nonetheless. "You're a rather big flirt," he stated. It catches me off guard, he wanted to add but chose against it.

Ichigo chuckled and shrugged but his eyes were twinkling playfully. "A shameless one at that."

"Yeah, I figured..." Grimmjow scratched the back of his neck. "How come you kept it a secret until now? Playing hard-to-get?"

"I am a busy man, Grimmjow. You have to work hard to get my attention."

He couldn't the triumphant smile that spread on his face. "It seems that I'm doing a good job so far."

Ichigo smirked at him and retrieved his hand. "Maybe."

Their little conversation was cut short by the flight attendant's voice, which echoed from the intercom, loud and obnoxious, asking the passengers to sit down and fasten their seatbelts. With a heavy sigh and a light chest, Grimmjow did what he was asked to and quickly took a hold of Ichigo's retreating hand, lacing their fingers again. He could see Ichigo's baffled look from the corner of his eye but he played innocent until the slim appendage in his hand melted and snuggled closer.

That was pretty much how the rest of the while went, until the plane finally landed. The pilot welcomed them in Paris, informed them about the weather and everything before the other passengers started taking their stuff out of the boxes. Grimmjow felt Ichigo shift by his side, ready to stand up and he stopped him.

"Let's wait for a while," he said, "I don't want to get stuffed with everyone."

"Oh," the angel nodded and sat back down, "Okay."

Passengers then started hurrying out of the plane, some even staring a little at their linked fingers but none of them dared to say anything, considering the glares they received from Grimmjow.

So as the crowd started lessening, the two got their handbags off the boxes and quickly exited the plane - Grimmjow had to glare one more time at that stupid flight attendant for flirting with his man, just to prove once more exactly how mature he was - eager to get their muscles moving properly. Ichigo was almost skipping, his brown eyes taking everything in but he was so distracted that, at times, Grimmjow had to pull at his arm to get his attention. He would always grin sheepishly and apologize but the sight was just too cute for Grimmjow to seriously mind it.

Thankfully, their baggage arrived quickly and so, Grimmjow headed to the car rent for a car and as he turned on the engine and began coursing through the roads of Paris, Ichigo busied himself with studying everything that passed through his field of vision, woah-ing and wow-ing every few minutes. It was late afternoon and the street lights were on and blazing, indeed giving off an almost dreamy aura.

"It's so pretty," the angel sighed.

Grimmjow had this overwhelming urge to say something utterly corny and embarrassing, so he fought against it. "Yeah, it is."

"You come here a lot?"

"Mhm."

"You're so lucky, I'm jealous."

The blunet chuckled. "It's usually for business, not for vacation."

"Oh." Ichigo shrugged and smiled a little. "At least it's better than nothing."

"True."

"So, like," the angel continued a little hesitantly, "You never told me where we will be staying."

Grimmjow blinked in confusion before the realization dawned on him and he chuckled. "My house."

The orange head whipped at him and brown eyes widened. "You own a house?!"

"Yup," Grimmjow nodded, grinning at the adorably shocked face his angel had on, "It's only thirty minutes from here."

Apparently Ichigo still couldn't believe it. "You own a house." It wasn't a question this time. Grimmjow nodded, not knowing what else to do.

"Yeah."

There was a reflective pause. "Wow," was all the orange-haired angel sighed before he was back at staring outside the car's window in daze.

Thick silence nestled between them, as Grimmjow couldn't find the right words to respond with, and in the end, he just gave up. At some point, Ichigo dozed off, making it hard for Grimmjow to keep his eyes on the road. He wanted to look, goddamn it; the angel was so fucking cute. Like, people look weird as fuck when they slept; Ichigo was fucking cute. How was it possible? Well, the orange-haired man was absolutely perfect in every aspect, so it wasn't such surprise.

Grimmjow hated himself a little when they arrived at their destination and he had to disturb the angel's sleep. As gently as he could, he coaxed the other man out of his deep slumber, only to melt completely inside when a pair of glassy chocolate brown eyes blinked into consciousness and a hoarse voice asked, "Oh, we're here?", in the most adorable way possible.

"Yup," he confirmed, "You can go inside, I'll bring the things."

"No, no, no," Ichigo shook his head immediately, "I'll help."

Unable to deny him a thing, Grimmjow let him help, so they soon moved all of their luggage inside the house, finally settling in. Although he was fucking beat, Grimmjow got a kick out of watching Ichigo taking in his apartment with wide, doe eyes. It was cute, the hella intimidating doctor which terrified and aroused every nurse in the hospital (male or female) was looking around with awe in his eyes, like a little kid in the toy store. It was an interesting combination and the blue-haired man was more than just a little glad to experience it firsthand.

"It's really nice," Ichigo finally commented, "Cozy somehow."

It wasn't a big deal, really; just an apartment with a small but fully equipped kitchen, a living room and two huge-ass bedrooms. But Ichigo liked it, so Grimmjow was okay with that. "I'm glad you like it," he said and walked up to the other man, gently pushing a stray tuff of hair away from Ichigo's eyes, "So, what would you like to do now?"

Ichigo smiled, killing him a little. "I want a shower first." He sniffed his shirt and cringed. "Ugh, I stink."

Grimmjow didn't know what the other was talking about; Ichigo still smelled like a walking sin. But he played along, nonetheless. "Alright. The bedrooms have their own bathrooms. Pick whichever you want, I don't mind."

The orange-haired man nodded in understanding. "Then, I'd like some food. I don't care what, I just need food."

"Yes, yes," Grimmjow patted the other on the back, "I'll handle the cooking."

A pause. "You cook?"

Ah, he would never get tired of Ichigo staring at him in awe. Damn, he felt like a fucking superhero for being able to cook a simple meal, it was messed up. "Yup, I do."

"Woah, don't you have, like, servants to cook for you?"

Grimmjow busted out laughing. "The fuck?!"

Ichigo's cheeks reddened in embarrassment and he pouted grumpily. "What? Isn't this what rich people do?"

"Hiring people to cook for them? Stereotypes, my angel," the blue-haired man said, utterly amused, "I don't know what the rich people you know do, but I cook and do my laundry by myself."

"Well whatever, I'm taking a shower," the orange-haired man muttered and stomped into one of the bedrooms, his suitcase on his tail, while Grimmjow was trying really hard not to burst out laughing.

Ah. He is the one, he has to be, he thought to himself and sighed in bliss, I can't believe I finally found him.

With that in mind, the blue-haired man headed to the kitchen and opened his large, fully stocked fridge (he had asked the cleaning lady to buy groceries the day before), contemplating on what to make. Stir fry sounded good to his ears, since he wasn't in the mood for overly fancy dishes, even though he was very much capable of making them; he was tired and jet lagged and in desperate need for a glass of wine. And Ichigo in his arms of course, but the latter could wait.

So, after moving his things to the not occupied bedroom, Grimmjow got down to business in the kitchen. He even poured himself a generous amount of wine, sipping and humming some random melody while stirring the food. It didn't take too long for him to finish with the preparations, so he soon turned the stove off and rinsed his hands clean before he headed towards Ichigo's room.

He must have finished by now, no?, he questioned in his head as he gently knocked on the door. "Hey," he said softly, "It's me. Can I come in?"

"Ah, yes, come in," Ichigo's muffled voice said behind the closed door.

Since he got the green light, the blue-haired man turned the doorknob ever so slightly and pushed the door open. "The food is rea-"

The food is ready, was what he wanted to say but suddenly, everything died in his head. Fuck that, Grimmjow could practically hear the sizzling of his brain as it got fried down to ashes and the cause was the sight right in front of him.

There sat his angel, Ichigo, sitting on the edge of the bed, cross-legged, with his phone in hand, scrolling through something Grimmjow had no idea what it was and all that, while - brace yourselves - he was clad only in a pair of black boxers. Tight black boxers.

What has been seen cannot be unseen.

Grimmjow felt faint, his throat extremely dry but his mouth watered in response to the epitome of stimulation. His hand was still at the doorknob, squeezing so tight that his skin had turned white, while his other hand was touching his face for any signs of drooling. Shit, so much skin, not too white, not too tanned;. Then these legs; they were long and toned and gorgeous and Grimmjow wanted them around his waist, like, now. And these muscles; gosh, Ichigo was hella defined. Like, okay, Grimmjow had already guessed considering the man's physique and posture, but that much? Not even in his wildest (and wettest) dreams.

Fuck, sex appeal has to have a limit, right? Ichigo had surpassed that limit already. He was a special category on his own.

Speaking of the orange-haired man, he hadn't looked up from his phone, which was good because, one; Grimmjow didn't want to be caught drooling all over like a pervert, and two; a bright idea popped in his head and he had to bring it to life. He let the doorknob go and walked towards the orange-haired man, waiting until Ichigo looked up at him. Then he purposely fell on the floor, on his back, in front of the angel's feet.

Ichigo quirked one eyebrow as he eyed him in confusion. "What are you doing exactly?"

Grimmjow grinned broadly before he said, "You're drop-dead gorgeous and that's what I'm doing; dropping dead."

The edges of Ichigo's lips twitched and snorted a laugh. "Oh my God," he groaned and then his attention went back to his phone. Grimmjow didn't like that. He wanted the angel's attention. So he tried to get it by gently caressing the angel's ankle with the back of his fingers.

"Hey, doctor," he drawled smoothly.

Just as expected, these brown eyes were on him once again, incredulous but questioning. "What is it?"

"I think I might be missing nutrients from my diet."

Both orange eyebrows rose to meet an equally orange hairline. "Oh really?"

Grimmjow nodded and tried really hard not to smile but he didn't succeed. "Yeah," he muttered, "I think I lack some vitamin D."

The puzzled look in Ichigo's eyes stayed for a couple of seconds before realization took its place and a facepalm followed. "I can't believe you."

"What?", Grimmjow feigned innocence, "Is it too serious, doc?"

Ichigo shook his head in disbelief, an amused smile on his face. "No, it's okay. I'll prescribe you some medication and you'll be good to go."

That wasn't the response he had been expecting, so Grimmjow tried once again. "I think I know a better treatment."

This time, the angel rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. Patients always know better than doctors."

Ignoring the statement, Grimmjow continued with a lazy smirk. "I'd say that I'll heal faster if you just lay on top of me. Naked, preferably."

This time he couldn't hold it; Ichigo simply busted out laughing, tilting his head backwards too. Grimmjow was only smiling in triumph. "Oh my God," the angel wheezed, "Is this your attempt of flirting with me?"

Grimmjow's smile turned sheepish as he became a little apprehensive. "Is it working?"

"Well, I'm laughing."

"Yiiiiiiis," the blue-haired man cheered, his free hand tracing the soft skin of the angel's calf. Shit, Ichigo shaved? Perfect. "So," he continued as soon as Ichigo's laughter died down, "What do you say about the treatment? Wanna lay on top of me and...?"

Unfortunately for him, Ichigo shook his head. "Nu-uh," he muttered but there was a rather teasing glint in his eyes, "I know a better treatment actually, one that is more effective; you have to go to the kitchen, pour yourself some cold water and drink it because you, my friend, are very thirsty."

I like where this is going, Grimmjow mentally applauded and he propped himself on his elbow to kiss the orange-haired man's knee. "I know. Because you look like a cool glass of refreshing water, and I am the thirstiest man in the world," he drawled in the most sultry voice he could muster, kissing that smooth knee once again, his hand running up and down Ichigo's calf.

"Oh, wow, okay," Ichigo chuckled and scratched the back of his head nervously, "Maybe you should slow down a little? I mean we just came here..." Grimmjow pried Ichigo's thighs apart and kneeled in between, his arms wrapping around the other man's waist. He kissed the middle of the angel's chest before looking up at him, almost pleading. "I'll only be satisfied when you're coming inside me, my angel."

"Woah, okay," Ichigo gasped and his hands grasped Grimmjow's shoulders, gently pushing him away, "Never mind the cold water; a cold shower is what you need."

"God damn Ichigo, you're so unfair," Grimmjow growled as he pulled away. He was scowling, frustrated beyond belief, "You're doing it on purpose."

Ichigo frowned. "What? What am I doing?"

"I mean, you tell me to come in when you practically wear fucking nothing and you expect me not to react? Fuck you, okay?" At the almost astonished look Ichigo was giving him, Grimmjow huffed a sigh and nuzzled that naked chest, breathing in Ichigo's intoxicating scent to calm himself. He continued, his voice a mere murmur, "You know my situation yet, you keep fucking ogling me. It's like you're doing it on purpose."

The doctor was stiff before he sighed and Grimmjow felt arms wrapping around his shoulders. "You're so fucking cute." Ichigo had the audacity to chuckle before kissing the top of his head, "I like it. Do it more often."

"Will that get me a treat?"

"Yes."

Grimmjow smiled. "I can work with that."

Ichigo was the first one to gently break the hug and Grimmjow was about to complain from the loss of contact had not the orange-haired man cupped his face and stared at him with those molten-chocolate brown eyes. Ah, he was weak to these eyes, they made his stomach quiver like jello. He couldn't imagine anyone able to go against these eyes.

"You're so gorgeous, you know that?", Ichigo whispered, their lips almost touching.

Grimmjow's mouth quirked upwards a little. "Yeah?"

"Painfully gorgeous. It's unfair."

"Mm," Grimmjow hummed and rubbed their noses together. Well, he already knew he was gorgeous, mind you, but it sounded lot better when it came from the angel's lips. "You could say it more often then."

"To inflate your ego? Hell no," Ichigo teased.

"What the hell asshole? My ego is fine!" He wasn't really mad because he knew he was a cheeky motherfucker. Fucking sue him if you dare.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the angel dismissed him with a tender kiss on the nose and then released him, "So, what was the reason you came up here in the first place?"

Grimmjow blinked a little in confusion, seriously trying to remember what were his first intensions before it hit him. "Uh, the food is ready. Probably getting cold."

"Then let's hurry downstairs. I hate eating my food cold."

It wasn't all that cold after all, but still, Ichigo pestered his ass nonstop about making sure. Ugh, the angel (who had finally put some clothes on) could be such control-freak but it was kinda endearing because Grimmjow was the weak one in love and he couldn't get annoyed. After all, they mock-argued, Grimmjow slapped Ichigo's intruding hands many times, Ichigo whacked him at the back of his head in retaliation and then, they laughed at their dorkiness, so it was fine. More than fine actually. Grimmjow couldn't have asked a lot more than that; free time to learn all he could about the orange-haired angel.

"Your dad is fucking whack," Grimmjow deadpanned when Ichigo told him the stories about his father who, for some reason, tried to kick him in the face at random times, "What's his deal?"

After he was done choking on his wine while laughing, Ichigo wiped his mouth and said, "He means well."

"How?"

"He says it's to sharpen my reflexes... And it actually worked; sneak attacks don't work on me anymore."

"Quit fuckin' around," Grimmjow chuckled in disbelief, "You can't avoid sneak attacks; that's why they are called sneak attacks."

Ichigo cocked one challenging eyebrow. "Well then, you just have to try and see by yourself."

Why does this sound sexual? God, I'm indeed hella thirsty for him. Grimmjow shook his head, dismissing the thought, and took another bite from his food. "I won't go around sneak-attacking you, baby."

The smile on the angel's face widened. "Alright...baby."

It was Grimmjow's turn to choke on his food at the sound of this word. He hadn't expected that. Fuck, he didn't even realize he had said it in the first place, it had come out completely naturally. But for the angel to say it back?

Shit. I'm done for.

"What?", Ichigo quickly asked him, confused and a little worried, "Not good? I mean, like, you said it first and I thought-"

"Oh my God, Ichigo, it's fine already," Grimmjow cut him off with a frown, "I was surprised and I choked a little, rest your panties."

"Oh. Okay. Sorry, I guess." The angel was about to array a couple of more apologies but Grimmjow's glare shut him up efficiently. "It was a shock for me too," he changed the subject, "I mean, you rarely call me anything else other than 'angel'."

"You don't like it?", was Grimmjow's next question.

Brown eyes rolled. "I don't really care. You can call me whatever you want, unless it's something insulting."

Okay, Grimmjow had to raise one eyebrow at that. "Even daddy?", he smirked.

Ichigo's smile turned all the way sly. "That's for the bedroom, baby."

Although the image of the angel in his bedroom was super arousing, Grimmjow wasn't sure how he felt about the daddy kink. "Dunno, man," he voiced his concerns, "I feel rather strange calling you that."

The orange-haired man simply shrugged; no disappointment, no frustration on his face. "Whatever makes you comfortable."

"Aw, so thoughtful."

Apparently, his tone came out so sarcastic it made Ichigo stop from taking his bite halfway. Brown eyes fixed him with a serious look. "I would never do anything that makes you comfortable, Grimmjow," he stated.

The blue-haired man placed his utensils on the empty plate and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Yes, he now felt bad for being so sarcastic because insulting Ichigo wasn't his intention. "I know," he said and sighed in defeat, "It's just that...well, not every person I've been intimate with was as nice as you."

"You're bad at making good choices?" There was a hint of smile on the other's face; a small, sad smile but still a smile. Grimmjow sighed again.

"My stepmother wasn't exactly a choice," he muttered. Or rather blurted. And almost instantly, the angel's face hardened to a mask of anger, his fingers clenching to a fist until the knuckles turned white. Grimmjow's chest clenched and he reached out for that hand. "Hey, relax," he murmured soothingly, trying to pry the fingers apart, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I still can't believe how you're so casual about it," the angel gritted.

"And I told you, what else should I do? Mope around and feel useless? No, I'm not that kind of person. Plus, I already am traumatized."

"Yeah, I know; you hate women."

Grimmjow shook his head, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. "I don't hate women, Ichigo," he sighed and retrieved his hand, standing up from his chair with his empty plate and walking up to the sink.

"I am afraid of them," he added, almost under his breath, "The hate is just an act because every time a woman touches me, I see her face and..." A frustrated sigh. "Let's just say, I don't want to see her face. Ever again."

Although Grimmjow wasn't sure how he had expected Ichigo to react, the strong arms that wrapped around his middle were unexpected for sure. Ichigo placed his head on the blue-haired man's shoulder and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry," he just muttered and hugged Grimmjow's body tighter.

A breathless, dry chuckle left him. "See? I'm not all that casual about it. I just don't want to let it get to me you know? I get scared and fucking weak and that's lame and I don't want that."

"You are absolutely amazing," Ichigo said sternly, "You're one of the strongest people I know. After going through something like that, you still stand on your feet and me, instead of outright admiring you, I fuckin' question your strength. Goddamn, I'm a stupid jerk."

Grimmjow turned around to face the other man, wrapping his arms loosely around these strong, slim shoulders. "You're not stupid or a jerk," he smiled, "It's alright to ask, to be curious. I don't mind telling you. After all, it's a part of me and I kinda want you to know now that... I mean, if you want to-"

"You're rambling," Ichigo grinned smugly. Grimmjow's already very vivid blush got darker. Shit, he was a grown ass man; why was he blushing like a baby? Gash.

"Shut up."

"And you're blushing too."

Asshole. Grimmjow scowled and averted his gaze. "I said shut up."

The bastard was still smiling. "But it's cute."

"Shut up, it's not. It's dumb as fuck."

The angel nuzzled Grimmjow's cheek, planting a few pecks on the flaming skin. "I like it so you have nothing to worry about."

Well... I can live with that.

"Either way," Ichigo added with a sigh, "Now that we're kinda like...together, you can indeed tell me everything. Of course, same goes for me; and there are some things I have yet to explain. My relationship with Shiro, for instance."

Every little ounce of his good mood evaporated to thin air at the mention of that freak's name. Grimmjow could feel his eyebrows meeting above the bridge of his nose, his lips purse to a thin line and he knew Ichigo could see it because the man's face softened, the edges of his mouth turning downwards. "Aw, please don't get mad," he murmured, kissing Grimmjow's chin, "If you get mad every time I speak about him, I won't tell you anything."

Grimmjow knew he was acting like a big baby and not like the adult that he actually was, but he was possessive damn it. It was his nature, he couldn't help it. Whether Ichigo liked it or not, he was his territory and he got mad every time he imagined someone else romping freely around his territory. But he had to suck it up, right? Otherwise he would push Ichigo away before the orange-haired man got the chance to get used to it.

"Alright," he sighed in defeat, "But could we get to this issue some time tomorrow? I am not in the right state to discuss this right now."

The bright smile that took over the angel's face had him whining a little internally. This much beauty was so fucking unfair. "Yes, of course," Ichigo beamed, "We can talk any time you want."

"Perfect. Wanna go watch a movie now? My TV is pretty big."

And that pretty much settled it; they finished washing the dishes, then grabbed their wine and got comfortable on the couch in front of Grimmjow's eighty-two inches, high definition TV. At first they were sitting separately but throughout the movie, Grimmjow was sneak-inching closer and closer until his head was on the crook Ichigo's neck and the orange-haired angel had one arm around his shoulders, his long fingers brushing through blue tresses. It felt so nice and peaceful. Grimmjow wasn't paying any attention to the movie, he didn't even know what it was about; as a matter of fact, he dozed off at some point.

"Grimmjow," the angel's voice calling him was what brought him back.

"Mm?", was Grimmjow's response.

"I hate to disturb you but I'd like to move."

Aww why?, he thought as he reluctantly untangled himself from the other man, not without making his discomfort known with a series of distressed sounds. Ichigo chuckled in amusement but said nothing; he instead placed his empty glass on the table in front of them. "What time is it?", he asked.

"Late," Grimmjow grunted, rubbing his eyes. The angel snorted and when Grimmjow's eyes were open again, he caught him staring at the screen of his phone.

"It's eleven pm," he murmured, scratching the back of his head.

"Like I said; late."

Brown eyes fixed him with an expectant but slightly hesitant stare. "So, like, do we sleep?"

Grimmjow knew there was something hiding behind these words but he played along with innocence. "I guess," he shrugged, "Unless you want to do something else."

Ichigo opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, only to open it again and close it, then chuckling awkwardly. "Well," he started and his ears progressively got redder, "I'd like to kiss you a little before going to bed. But only if that's okay with you."

Of course Grimmjow's heart jumped to his throat and proceeded to tap dance on the root of his tongue, he didn't expect something else. His face grew hotter once again and he knew he looked like a lame fucking tomato, but so did Ichigo, so it was fine. He tried to play cool though, as if he was so totally casual about it but the truth was that all he wanted was to bury his face in a pillow a squeal like a fucking pig.

"Well," he croaked and he cleared his throat, "I wouldn't mind..."

The angel licked his lips and smiled as he inched closer. He stopped once their faces were a hairsbreadth away from each other, his long fingers oh so gently caressing Grimmjow's cheek and Grimmjow felt faint, so he closed his eyes, enjoying the treatment. Their breaths were coming out slow and deep, mingling, warming Grimmjow's already warm face, making everything much more exciting. He waited, he waited patiently until Ichigo was done tracing the outline of his mouth with his thumb; he waited until he finally felt the familiar pair of lips slanting on top of his.

It started off as a series of pecks which heightened the tension between them, then some closed-mouthed-while-grinning kissing before it all morphed into an all-out battle of tongues, with Ichigo winning with blinding colors. He had cupped Grimmjow's face, tilting it backwards and eating him all out, slowly and thoroughly. It felt so amazing. Shit, Ichigo was so fucking talented in everything; he was a brilliant doctor, a badass human being and a mild-blowing kisser.

Grimmjow could feel his toes curling at the mere idea of how this angel would be in bed.

All too soon, Ichigo pulled away, leaving Grimmjow's head spinning like a rollercoaster. "Breathe, my precious," the orange-haired angel whispered, his voice filled with amusement, "Don't pass out on me."

That wasn't an easy thing to do, especially when Ichigo tasted like the wine they had been drinking. It was intoxicating and now it was difficult to even open his eyes for God's sake, yet Grimmjow managed to do it, only to have his breath - or whatever was left of it anyway - knocked out of his lungs, as those chocolate brown eyes drilled holes in his face.

"Those are the eyes I like to see," the angel drawled with that sinful voice of his, "All dazed and glassy." His thumb was running across Grimmjow's cheekbone. "Tell me, my precious... Do you like it when I kiss you?"

What kind of question was that? "Of course, my angel. Please do it some more."

With a satisfied sigh, the orange-haired man's face was close to him all over again. "Well, since you said please," was all Grimmjow heard before the train of his thought derailed miserably, killing whatever thinking capacity it had built up until now.

They kissed like this for what felt like a while and Grimmjow would rather chop an arm off than end it. Yeah, it was that good, he said it before. As a matter of fact, his pants had started to feel a little snug in the crotch area. Jesus fucking Christ, getting hard only from a kiss? Ridiculous. Well, it wasn't just the kiss; it also was Ichigo's masculine scent filling him to the brim, Ichigo's hand roaming freely all over his chest, the thumb teasing his nipple through the blouse, it was Ichigo's leg running up and down his thigh, it was how narrow Ichigo's waist felt in his embrace. So many reason to get his blood pumping in his erection.

When Ichigo finally pulled away, they were both breathing rather heavily. Heavier than before. And when Grimmjow opened his eyes once again, the angel's eyes were narrow and dark, all the previous humor gone from his face.

"I should stop here," he grunted, his voice hoarse, "Before I end up ravishing you."

Grimmjow swallowed his heart. "You know I wouldn't mind the ravishing. Not one bit."

A hint of smile quirked the edges of those perfectly swollen lips upwards. "I promised myself I'll cherish you before I ravish you."

The blue-haired man tried to not let these words get to him too much because he would be fainting all over, for real this time. "Then I shall do the same," he croaked and grasped both of Ichigo's wrists, giving each one a tender kiss. Then he smiled, feeling giddier than ever before, "Should I walk you to your room, my angel?"

"If it isn't too much trouble, I'd like that," Ichigo smiled.

"Trouble? Not at all." Grimmjow sighed dreamily, nuzzling the palm of Ichigo's hand. "I'd travel the entire world on my knees for you."

At that, the redhead chuckled. "Aren't you too cheesy, maybe?"

Maybe he was too cheesy. A hopeless romantic at best. Maybe all these things that left his mouth were utterly disgusting to the ears of an outsider, maybe holding hands while walking towards Ichigo's bedroom was too much, but it sure as hell made his angel's ears turn red and that was all that mattered to Grimmjow. He never knew he could be so sappy, but it was all his fault; it was his fault for being a deeply infatuated idiot.

They both stopped walking as soon as they were in front of Ichigo's room, exchanging a serious look which soon dissolved in a smile. "Thanks a lot for everything," Ichigo said, "I'm having a great time already."

"It's really nothing."

Ichigo chuckled again and with a sigh, he stood on his toes to kiss Grimmjow once more. It wasn't sexual; their lips touched, locked and then it was over. But it left Grimmjow higher than a kite.

"Goodnight," the angel said as he walked in his bedroom and started closing the door, "I'll see you tomorrow."

A weak wave and a nod was all Grimmjow could come up with in his complicated state before Ichigo's door was completely shut. He stood there, paralyzed on the spot, desperately trying to get a hold of himself to walk to his own bedroom. When or how he found himself under his sheets he wasn't sure, however, he was sure of one thing; he was sure that he grinned in his pillow for a really long while before the jet lag and the trip's exhaustion caught up with his tingling body.

And just like that, the blue-haired man drifted off, thanking whatever God existed above for that stupid appendix of his, which got infected and sent him directly into an angel's embrace.

XXXX

I'm such a nerd. I can't write sexy/witty dialogues. It's impossible *sighs*

Ah, I am so sorry, this was so terrible and boring, even though y'all waited for so long... I've hit a wall but I'll figure something out eventually, I hope. Just a small decision I made; the smut will be IchiGrimm only and this shall not change no matter what.

Thanks a lot for reading! :3 Any comments?