Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the feedback last chapter, you guys are the best! Haha. I hope you enjoy this.
- Chapter 11 -
Ichigo stepped out of Grimmjow's bedroom and into the hallway. He began to make his way quietly down the narrow path of expensive hardwood flooring, the smooth bamboo planks cool on his bare feet. The shinigami did his best to ignore his still unsteady stomach and sick-feeling head as they both protested to his movement. He'd take something for it when he got home. Home. Shit. He hadn't called his dad to tell him he'd be out all night, and on a school night too - right - he was missing school too. Great.
A heavy clink drew Ichigo from his musings and to the open kitchen on his left where the blue-haired man stood, his back facing Ichigo and blocking whatever he was doing with his tall frame. The shinigami spotted his shirt and jacket on the floor in front of the couch, and he made his way over, leaning over and picking them up quickly, refusing to replay how they had gotten there. He pulled the shirt over his head, and there was a snort.
The shinigami turned around slowly, scowling, and chocolate eyes narrowed as he still held his jacket by his side, his gaze settling on an annoyingly quiet Grimmjow, who was now facing him. He didn't know why, but his silence seemed to bother him more than his talking. "Something funny?" Ichigo asked brusquely, his low voice coming out even lower.
The blue-haired man cocked his head to the side, teal tattooing smooth, blue eyes relaxed but still somehow piercing in their gaze. "You in a hurry, Ichigo?"
Ichigo's grip tightened around the material in his hand, fingers doing their best to throttle the collar of his jacket. "Yeah, you got a problem with that, Grimmjow?"
Grimmjow smiled slowly, lips pulling up on the right side and exposing white teeth, the expression making the hair stand up on the back of Ichigo's neck, because it felt intimate, and not in an unpleasant way. "Nah," he said, and then turned away once more from the shinigami, only to turn back a moment later and place a plain, black ceramic mug on a tall thin counter whose sole purpose up until that point appeared only to be to separate Grimmjow and Ichigo. He shot the watching shinigami a pointed look and then made his way casually into the living room and dropped down onto the couch.
Ichigo frowned, refusing to look over as he saw the ex-Espada in the corner of his vision pick up a magazine from the table beside him and open it. He eyed the mug warily and walked over to peer down into it. He leaned down some and breathed in the curling steam. Tea. The shinigami hesitated. He'd made him tea?
"It's not poison, unless Kisuke has it out for you."
Ichigo turned at that, his expression wide with disbelief. "Urahara? He - he gave you that?" he asked, motioning at the cup.
Grimmjow lowered the book to his lap, he lifted one blue eyebrow. "Yeah, last night, said it helps hangovers."
Orange brows raised, looking like they were doing their best to reach the matching spiky fringe above. "You went to Urahara's shop last night - for me?"
The blue-haired man's expression muddied at that. He had gone there for Ichigo, but he didn't particularly like how that sounded now that he thought about it. He set the magazine down beside him, and he looked up into surprised copper eyes and sneered. "Just drink the fucking tea."
Ichigo just blinked. "Excuse me?"
Grimmjow huffed a laugh. "You heard me. Drink it."
Ichigo's jaw flexed. "No."
The blue-haired man growled as he pushed himself up and began to stalk towards the shinigami. "Oh you're going to drink it, Kurosaki," he said lowly.
Ichigo took a step back when the tall-blue haired man stopped directly in front of him and picked up the cup only to shove it at him. "I'm not fucking drinking that."
"Why. Not?" Grimmjow demanded.
Ichigo's lips pulled to the side, and he glanced at the steaming mug in front of him and then up at an irritated Grimmjow. He shifted his weight and shrugged one shoulder, looking down at wide planks in lieu of answering. He didn't like being told what to do. He never had.
"Fine." The man set it back down with a loud clunk, sloshing some of the liquid onto the counter, and then he walked heavily back over to the couch and swiped up the magazine he had left. "Go ahead and feel like shit if you want to."
Ichigo started to retort but stopped. Because what was he going to say? 'Fine I will,' or maybe, 'I feel fine.' The shinigami's gaze shifted back up to land on the cup of tea the ex-Espada had gone out to get him for some reason, and he took in a quiet breath. It did smell good...
He reached out a hand and lifted the mug from its spot, shooting a glance over at the blue-haired man before taking a small sip, and his eyes fell shut in relief as the hot liquid seemed to calm his stomach almost immediately, the steam coaxing his swirling mind to relax more with each inhale. He took another sip, not noticing blue eyes on him as he did.
Grimmjow watched the shinigami nurse the drink he'd made for him. He frowned, looking away. Why had he made it for him? He didn't remember actually thinking it over, but he'd known that Ichigo wouldn't make it for himself, and he needed it... to feel better—
"Thanks."
Grimmjow looked up, blue brows still pulled down and in as he met expressive, copper-flecked eyes, and he scratched at his chest.
Ichigo lifted the cup of tea a few inches in display when the man's expression didn't clear. "For this," he said and then took another sip.
Grimmjow ran his tongue slowly along his lower teeth as he considered his words. "Yeah, no problem." And then he watched in growing interest as Ichigo walked over and took the seat at the end of the couch only two cushions down, draping his jacket over the armrest beside him. He'd expected a quick exit after what they'd done. He shifted his hips forward when the mental image of Ichigo after he'd came all over him supplied itself readily. Ichimaru was right, the shinigami really did look good in white. Grimmjow grinned.
The orange-haired teen closed his eyes, and slid down in his seat. He took another drink before letting his head fall back to rest on the back of the black couch with a heavy breath as his hands lowered to his lap, the cup they held almost empty, not feeling in such a hurry anymore. "This stuff is great. So what's the plan for today?"
Grimmjow looked back over at Ichigo, and he shifted closer to the shinigami, leaving only a cushion between them. "Don't you have school today?"
Brown eyes opened, looking a little groggy, as Ichigo's head stayed resting on the back of the couch, and he let out a laugh. "That sounds really weird when you say that, you know?"
Grimmjow tilted his head, a sly smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah?" he asked, sliding closer, and his voice dropped as his leg settled against Ichigo's. "And why's that, Ichigo?"
"Just does." Ichigo ran a thumb along the rim of the warm cup in his hands as he eyed the suddenly close man, his larger leg pressing against his, and brown eyes took a sweeping look unnecessarily, taking in the black fitted shirt that conformed to his torso in a way that really shouldn't be possible and then down to loose-fitting sweatpants. "Don't you think you'd like someone more your age?"
Grimmjow laughed, pulling the attention of wide brown eyes up quickly. "And what's my age, Ichigo, hm?" Lips parted to show the tips of white teeth as Grimmjow leaned in closer.
"Ah." Ichigo paused when warm puffs of air began to brush his ear. "I don't know," he said, voice growing rough as he tried to think around the ex-Espada, who seemed to be taking up more and more of his thoughts. A hand settled on his thigh just above his knee, and he stifled a low grunt of surprise. "Don't you?" he forced out.
Grimmjow shook his head, looking amused and something else Ichigo couldn't pinpoint as intensely quiet blue eyes held him trapped. "Not a clue," he said, long fingers curling around Ichigo's leg but not sliding up further. And then the ex-hollow cocked his head and said, "A car."
Brown eyes blinked. "A car...?"
Grimmjow gave the leg under his hand a squeeze and then stood up. "Yeah, I want to buy a car today." He lifted a hand to run through his swept-back hair, his shirt pulling up a few inches to expose tan skin as he looked down at Ichigo, who appeared unsure but not completely against the idea.
"You have a license?"
Grimmjow grinned widely, placing a hand overtop his tone chest, blue hair and even bluer eyes even more prominent with his black shirt for contrast. "Of course, Ichigo, I'm a law abiding citizen now."
Ichigo looked up at the tall man before him blankly, and then he rolled his eyes, sighing as he stood up slowly. "All right. Let's go." He pulled on his jacket. "Do you know what you want yet?"
"Oh yeah."
"Here you go Mr.—"
"Jaegerjaquez," Grimmjow said coolly, as he stood in a pair of charcoal cargo pants, his black shirt, and a black jacket, unzipped and collar up - studying the red Jaguar F-Type with black leather interior before him like he wanted to do something very inappropriate to the brand new convertible.
"Jaegerjaquez, what a unique name," the tall dark-haired woman, who claimed to be a car salesman, said, as she leaned in even closer to him in her knee-length, but incredibly tight, skirt, her white button down looking to be even more open since her return with the keys for the ex-Espada's purchase. She smiled coyly up at him. "Is there a Mrs. Jaegerjaquez?" she asked, dark eyes flicking down to the man's bare left hand.
Ichigo cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked away from a smiling Grimmjow as the woman slinked even closer, placing her hand delicately on the top of the ex-Espada's new vehicle. He glanced around at the imported car lot, and he felt the distinct urge to just leave. Why was he even needed for this anyway?
"No, but you've met Ichigo here, right?"
Copper eyes widened, frozen on a black Porsche 911. There was no way. He couldn't be—His head swiveled back just in time to catch a still-grinning Grimmjow wrap his fingers gently around the shocked woman's wrist and remove it from the hood of his car. "Thank you again, Lola, I'll be sure to look you up when I need another car," he said in a low rough voice, that had the woman nodding as she blinked rapidly, eyes looking dazed.
"Oh. Yes... Yes, of course, Mr. Jaegerjaquez Enjoy. It was good to meet you," she said as she took a step back, her gaze shifting over to land on Ichigo with a novel interest, the woman not having addressed him the entire time. "You too Mr. Kurosaki."
Ichigo felt his lips turn up despite himself, and he scrubbed a hand through his hair, as his insides decided to waffle between two very polar emotions at Grimmjow's mentioning of him. "Yeah, you too," he said in his deep voice.
"Well, let's go then," Grimmjow said, and Ichigo watched in confusion as the taller man made his way away from the car and towards him with a noticeable spring in his step, and when he reached him he took Ichigo's hand hanging by his side, lifted it, and placed the key in his palm.
Ichigo blinked. His chin dropped.
Grimmjow smiled and shifted closer, his hand still covering Ichigo's that held the key to his brand new car, and he dipped down to whisper in his ear, "You can drive it if you want, Ichigo."
Ichigo laughed as the V8 engine gurgled as he let off the gas, and then when he was halfway into the turn, he pressed back down, and it roared back to life, the powerful, throaty sound reverberating through his entire body as they moved further and further away from the car lot. The sleek red vehicle only got smoother the faster he went, and fuck if it wasn't loud. His smile grew impossibly wider.
"You like it?"
Ichigo shot a quick glance over at the tall man beside him, the tips of his blue hair not protected by the windshield and getting whipped around as they drove along a quiet road outside of Karakura town with the top down. "Fuck yeah," he said with a laugh, and he eased on the gas as they approached an intersection with a red light, braking reluctantly and cutting off the chortling noise he was quickly becoming addicted to. "Why are you letting me drive this?" he asked, too happy to even really care.
Grimmjow shrugged one shoulder as he sat with his right arm draped over the passenger door, its window down. "Because I don't know how to."
Ichigo glanced over at the man, and then he moved forward through the green light, slowly picking up speed again as he took a left to make his way further out of town. "Then why'd you get it?"
Blue eyes shifted over to land on the shinigami - whose wild hair would match the contrast stitching in the seats if it were not quite as bright - watching as he drove the car with apparent ease before turning back to speeding scenery, the cloudless sky above mirroring them. "I miss going fast," he said simply.
Ichigo hesitated at that. "Ah," he finally said lamely, taking a slight left and merging onto the highway, the mood suddenly tense between them as the car growled and then roared under his increasingly heavy foot, passing other vehicles easily as he drove to nowhere very quickly. He was incredibly grateful at that moment he'd gone through with the driver's licensing procedure despite being utterly carless. Well, unless one counted his dad's mini van. Which he didn't.
He glanced over at his silent passenger as traffic thinned, the powerful machine taking them further and further from Karakura Town. "What else do you miss?" he asked for some reason.
Grimmjow smiled over at him slyly. "You really wanna know that, Ichigo?"
The shinigami's gaze shifted back to the road. "Yeah," he said, surprised at his answer but not sure why. He should want to know, because... well, he felt kind of responsible for him somehow since he was a human now. Maybe it was because the ex-hollow felt almost too vulnerable with his gaping holes of knowledge, or that he knew if his friends ever found him and recognized him they'd try to kill him, and probably succeed, or maybe it was just because the ex-Espada had asked him for help out of everyone. Ichigo frowned. Maybe he did have a hero complex. The shinigami forced the uncomfortable musings away, speeding up and focusing on the clear road ahead of him.
Grimmjow lifted fingers up off the edge of the door, and let them drift outside of the car, air speeding over and under and between his fingertips, and blue eyes fell shut as he said, "My powers."
Ichigo found himself nodding. He couldn't imagine losing his own, the adrenaline rush it gave him was like no other, and to lose his powers - he'd feel useless - he'd be furious. The tall and once very powerful ex-Espada had been relatively mild-mannered considering everything. He hadn't even complained... not that Ichigo would have been sympathetic. But still.
He flicked on the blinker abruptly, shifting into the left lane just in time to pull off the exit he'd once known well. After less than five minutes of driving, the trees on either side of them growing thicker, he made a right onto a dead-end road that ended less than a mile later at a large, paved parking lot that was marked off by letters, the sound of distant shrill screaming making a small smile push at the corners of his lips as nostalgia toyed with his thoughts. He hadn't been here since elementary school, even though Keigo and Chad and his dad and little sisters went several times a year. He always turned them down.
"What's this?" Grimmjow asked, the tall blue-haired man suddenly perking up, blue eyes flaring with an interest as they landed on train tracks in the distance that were built high in the air, cars flying along them with screaming people strapped into them.
Ichigo pulled into a space and put the shiny red car into park, and he looked over at the ex-Espada. "Fun. You up for it, Jaegerjaquez?"
He received a wide grin in response.
"I thought you'd never ask, Kurosaki."
If you guys are interested in Grimmjow's car, you can look up a video review on the Jaguar F-Type by Top Gear on that popular video viewing page. ;)
Please let me know what you think, hopefully the next chapter won't take more than a few days!
