Chapter 20: For Everything I Didn't Say
It was good to hold a guitar again, Shirosaki thought as he began tuning his shiny black-and-white Grand Fisher electric guitar. It had cost him an arm and a leg back in the day, when Shirosaki had saved and scrimped for over a year at a part time job just to afford the beautiful piece of equipment. It was on par with a Zanpakuto; the power and potential on equal scale. He grinned as he took a stool and strummed a few times, his super-pale fingers flying over the strings. Oh, how he had missed this.
He had kept practicing occasionally, whenever he had time between jobs and school. His murky past had left him with little choice but to drown himself in music from a young age. Music had, almost quite literally, saved his life. Rescued him.
He owed his very soul to music.
He was brought out of his reverie by Rukia saying something snarky to Renji, who in turn called her a bitch and told her to chill the fuck out. They were currently all trying to get organized on the tiny-ass stage that Vizard's sported in the corner near an ancient-looking karaoke machine. Shirosaki doubted two hundred people could pack themselves into the small space, but the bartender and co-owner had reassured them that people would spill out onto the wooden tables provided outside along the sidewalk. Friday nights meant crowds, and Shirosaki didn't really care how many showed up as long as they got to play.
Shirosaki stopped playing when he noticed Toshiro's white head weaving his way through the tables and chairs of the music bar, his face flushed as a a silent, hooded shadow followed behind him.
"Yo," Shirosaki called in greeting, "Sup brother?"
"Sorry I'm late," Toshiro apologized, bumping fists with Shirosaki as Byakuya nodded and Rukia giggled.
"Glad ya could make it," Renji said, trying not to role his eyes, "Anyways, Shiro had some practice time this morning for the few songs we had planned for tonight. Wouldn't hurt to run over them before Love and Shinji open the place for business."
"We still have half an hour," Byakuya said, checking his cell phone, "time to run through a few."
"Alright," Tosh said, jumping up on the slightly-raised stage and heading for the drums, sitting quickly and pulling out the sticks he had stashed in a blue backpack.
Shirosaki grinned from Tosh's nervous posture to the tall slender hooded boy that had accompanied him. Shiro smirked when large, emerald green eyes met his inverted black and gold ones, "Oi, I remember you."
Ulquiorra's lip twitched, as if he was deciding whether to smirk or not, "Nice to see you again as well."
"So you two…?" Shiro raised a silky white eyebrow, looking back at Toshiro who was nodding his head as Renji explained something to him.
"He's mine," Ulquiorra said simply, his hands in his black hoodie pockets.
Shiro whistled low, drawing the others' attention, "Good 'ta know he's off limits. Didn't know how much longer I could keep my greedy paws off of 'im."
Shiro just laughed when Ulquiorra's stare became nearly murderous, his face mask-like except for the fire in those deep eyes.
"Just kiddin'," Shiro reassured, standing up and facing Renji, "Oi, we gonna do this or what?"
"Yeah yeah, keep yer pants on," Renji said, grabbing the mic propped up for him. Byakuya had picked up his black Zanpakuto that had etchings of beautiful cherry blossom petals. It should have been girly, but it wasn't. Rukia had her shoulder strap on to support her large Zanpakuto as she nodded to Renji. Shirosaki just grinned at him with that eerie beauty of his, and Toshiro snapped his drumsticks together, his icy blue eyes fired up, "Alright, set it off!"
XXX
Ichigo fought his way through the front door, Grimmjow nearly attached to his hip, followed by a very tall and pissed off Nnoitra. Jeez, he was going to beat the shit out of the strawberry for this goddamn idiotic disguise. Grimmjow had simply laughed before Nnoitra had punched him in the shoulder, Ichigo only remarking that if Nnoitra expected to tag along, he had to wear the stupid-ass disguise to avoid being mobbed in such a public place. Nnoitra had never considered his fame a curse, but now he understood the downside of not being able to go out and just listen to a band and have a goddamn beer without worrying about being mauled by hormonal teenage girls. Nnoitra grinned at the imagery, but then immediately remembered how pissed off he would be at the constant attention. Sure, he liked the perks, but he didn't like the perks swarming him every breath he took. It just got too fucking annoying.
So he tried to pull the ridiculous look off with bad-ass grace, even as the fake mustache hair itched and his beautiful long black hair had been pulled back and braided into a single tail. He was wearing black sunglasses instead of his usual bandanna. He still felt naked and exposed without it, but at least nobody could see his damaged eye. The black leather ensemble screamed trouble maker and motorcycle rider, especially with the unending tattoos on his arms and the menacing gait of his step and the curl of his lip as he ordered a beer at the crowded bar.
"Here ya go, stud," a fairly tan young man with blonde hair cut just above his shoulders, his grin revealing white teeth as he slid the beer towards Nnoitra.
Nnoitra slipped some yen across, brushing fingers with the yummy-looking bartender. Nnoitra admired his simple ensemble with the added flair of a black necktie, dressing it up a bit. Thinking about neckties made Nnoitra immediately start thinking about a certain albino who knew how to work that look to the point of driving Nnoitra crazy…
"Alone tonight?" the bartender continued, leaning over the top of the bar on his elbows, staring at Nnoitra with buttery-brown eyes.
"Nah," Nnoitra said, taking another chug of his beer. Fuck, why didn't he just tell this little faggot to fuck off? Nnoitra had always had an amazing gaydar: could tell a fruit loop from a mile away, so why was he letting the cute blonde flirt with him?
Oi, wait! Flirt? Cute? He thought the blonde was cute? Oh, but he was cute. His little smirk, that fit, slim body looking relaxed and in his element, the casual almost playful tone of voice that made Nnoitra curious to know how it sounded when it was in bed being fucked through the mattress.
Oi! What the FUCK was he thinking? He was thinkin' like a fuckin' faggot now, thanks to that damn Shirosaki and his fucking incredible, bangin' sexy body and mouth and tongue and lips…
"Shit," Nnoitra murmured, realizing his tight leather pants were becoming uncomfortable.
"Oh, that's too bad," blondie pouted, grabbing a shot glass and pouring a shot of tequila to a demanding, loud customer before turning back to Nnoitra, "a shame, really. You're just my type."
Nnoitra slammed his beer down, finished with it in record timing, grinning at the flirty bartender, "Oh really?"
"I have a thing for bad boys with facial hair," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "The name's Shinji. What's yours, sweetie?"
SWEETIE? Nnoitra wanted to break his jaw. Then he thought about banging the blonde in the alley behind the loud and obnoxious bar and fixed a grin to his face as he said the first name that popped into his head. He couldn't exactly use his real name when he was supposed to be under the radar, right? Why not have a little fun and take advantage of a new persona? "Gin."
Shinji laughed, sliding Nnoitra another beer, "That's sexy."
"Like me?" Nnoitra said, leaning into the side of the bar to settle closer to his catch for the night.
"Definitely," Shinji grinned before a girl at the end of the bar wearing a tight-fitting shirt and glasses yelled at Shinji to grab some drinks.
"Lisa's such a cock blocker," Shinji murmured, turning to some neglected customers and grabbing drinks with quick, practiced movements and grabbing yen off of the bar and tucking it away in one of his super-tight pants pockets, "ANYWAYS, you here for the band or for fun?"
"Both," Nnoitra replied, finally turning his head towards the crowd and staring at the band that was on stage. Yeah, there was Schif's bitch, that annoying redhead that Grimmjow had knocked out, a midget girl that was as flat as a pancake, a dark-haired and tall motherfucker, and finally, the fuckin' hot-ass albino Nnoitra hadn't managed to get off of his mind for the past couple days. They obviously hadn't talked since Byakuya's apartment for movie night, and neither had exchanged numbers. It had been a pretty cut-and-dry business deal; Nnoitra had never told him they would meet up again for the same treatment. And, considering Shirosaki had left him alone in the love hotel and how he had acted at the apartment had pretty much told Nnoitra everything he needed to know: it wasn't happening again and back the fuck off.
But Nnoitra had barely suppressed the want to tear the city apart looking for the little fucker.
Currently the redhead was screaming, the crowd worked up into a frenzy, jumping up and down in place or trying to dance. Most of the crowd was teenagers and young adults, but there were a few older people crowded around tables or against the walls, checking out the scene. Nnoitra's eye was focused on Shirosaki, who was shredding incredibly on that gorgeous guitar of his, his pale, black-nailed fingers torturing sweet music forth into the crowd. He was pretty good; it made him wonder if he could surpass Ichigo, but he doubted it. The strawberry had something, something Nnoitra was jealous of, and it wasn't fuckin' Grimmjow. Although watching Shirosaki, who already looked a hell of a lot like the strawberry, made Nnoitra wonder if this was what Shirosaki found happiness in. He looked a bit wild and crazy, but a controlled chaos that was sexy and oozed contentment.
"You know them?" Shinji said, picking up on how Nnoitra's gaze hadn't faltered from the stage.
"Nah," Nnoitra said, sipping from his second beer in under six minutes, "thought I recognized one of 'em."
"They're young, but they've got talent," Shinji said, laughing, "Wouldn't be surprised if they got as big as Espada someday."
Nnoitra snorted, impressed with the irony of the statement. Yeah, maybe someday, but not now. They had a long way to go yet, although this was probably the greatest amateur gig session Nnoitra had ever witnessed that sounded impressive live. A lot of bands could bullshit in a studio, but to perform live and sound even half decent was a sign from heaven to pursue a career. He had to admit, he hadn't expected half the talent he was hearing at the moment from the group of amateurs he had met days ago.
"When's your break?" Nnoitra asked suddenly, back to thinking about Shirosaki. Fuck that kid: he could have ass whenever and wherever he wanted. Shinji was probably a better lay anyway.
Shinji laughed, his eyes crinkling at the bold move, "I'm one of the owners. I can take a break whenever the hell I want."
Nnoitra's grin was slow, calculated, and knew it was dead-ass sexy because Shinji looked like Nnoitra had just punched him in the gut, "So take a fuckin' break."
XXX
"Where's Nnoi?" Ichi yelled over the music.
"Who cares?" Grimmjow shot back, his arms snaking around the berry's hips as they were pushed and shoved around the spazzing, gyrating bodies. The lights began flashing overhead, the dancers going crazy. Renji had just started up another song, the band doing fantastic. Ichigo had to admire Shirosaki's talent, even though he still felt a bit resentful that his "twin" had taken over his place so easily and seemingly effortlessly.
But he didn't have to worry about it anymore. He didn't even have the inclination to punch Renji in the face, or yell at Rukia about being a whore, or tell Byakuya to stop putting up an act because even Ichigo had picked up on Byakuya's hidden feelings for Renji nearly a year ago. Tosh was raping that drum set so amazingly Ichigo had fought tears in his eyes: the band would do perfectly well without him.
Besides, it might have had something to do with the fact that Ichigo was still on cloud nine. His family had been ridiculously accepting, his dad agreeing to come over to the apartment and start packing up some stuff to be moved back home into his old bedroom. With all the mayhem coming up in the next three weeks, Ichigo had to obviously make sure the apartment was cleared out and his shit taken care of before he took off and left the city. He had called the school's academic advisor and explained his situation, only saying that he would be going abroad and needed to take virtual examinations to complete his high school diploma. The paperwork would be worked out by Monday, and he'd continue going to classes up until the week before the Kanonji Festival since the teachers gave the students that week to study for examinations. It was all working out remarkably smoothly now that Ichigo had finally made a decision. He leaned back into his boyfriend, just enjoying the closeness as they listened to the music, both comfortable in silence.
[ "When I Grow Up" by Mayday Parade. Cover to "When I Grow Up" by Pussycat Dolls ]
Renji's voice got extremely husky as the next beat started up with the drums, snapping Ichigo out of his busy mind as he grinned. Damn, they had had so much fun making fun of the American girl group that was more sex-on-legs than music. Even so, they had taken to the most popular songs and worked on them, making them "better" than they had been. Soul Society had made this song their mantra…
They used to tell me I was silly (la la la la)….until I popped up on the t.v (ha ha ha ha)….I always wanted to be a superstar…who knew that singin' songs would get me this far? But I ain't complainin', we all wanna be famous, so go ahead and see what you wanna see. You don't know what it's like to be nameless, want 'em to know what your name is…Cuz see when I was younger I would say…!
When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies!
When I grow up, I wanna see the world, drive nice cars, I wanna have groupies! Be on t.v, people know me, be on magazines…!
Ichigo couldn't help but mosh with the crowd, getting into the beat he was so familiar with. He was happy when Grimmjow began dancing along with him, both of them pumping with energy as the crowd continued to scream and sing along, recognizing the American hit almost instantly. Renji was jumping around on stage, getting into the lyrics as the other members supplied the "ha ha ha ha"s that accompanied some parts. The song began to wind down, Ichigo sufficiently glossed in sweat as he slowed his movements, Grimmjow's fingers linking with his with one hand as Ichigo closed his eyes and soaked in the final words of the song:
'Careful what you wish for 'cuz you just might get it, you just might get it…'
Ichigo's heart thundered in his chest as he thought about those words: fuck, they were so true. He gripped Grimmjow's hand tighter as the crowd whistled and clapped applause. Grimmjow leaned into Ichigo, just bumping shoulder-to-shoulder to his boyfriend as they stared together at the stage. Ichigo shouldn't feel so complete and happy in this situation; after all, the band he had helped create and the best friend that had stabbed him in the back were maybe thirty feet away from him, and yet he felt contentment unlike any other.
"Ya wanna drink?" Grimmjow asked into Ichigo's ear, making him shiver involuntarily.
Ichigo nodded, refusing to break their handhold as they snaked through the throngs of people who had pushed in closer to the stage. He didn't want to get separated: one, he didn't want to. Two, Grimmjow's blue hair was currently covered with a ridiculously-good-looking black wig that made Ichigo wonder if Grimmjow had ever considered dying his hair. Obviously Ichigo adored Grimmjow's natural blue mane, but damn, he couldn't stop fantasizing about his beast of a boyfriend taking him in a leather outfit with jet-black hair, making his cerulean eyes even more amazing in contrast to the darkness of the hair.
Grimmjow looked back at Ichigo as he had made a moaning sound, confused. He quirked an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who only shook his head and was red in the face.
"What'cha thinking about?" Grimmjow asked, setting a beer in front of his berry.
Ichigo knew Grimmjow was already perverted enough for the both of them; he didn't have to add fuel to the fire, "Nothin'."
XXX
Shirosaki had cut through the crowd like a sharp knife, bummed a cigarette from a goth teen named Shuhei and headed out through the back of the club. The heavy door literally spilled Shirosaki into the alleyway, dumpsters greeting him and a stray cat scampering away upon his arrival. Looked pretty deserted. He lit up the cigarette, blowing it out his nostrils.
Damn, how he had missed playing. It had felt fucking amazing to be on stage again, even if it had been a rickety-ass little stage. He took another drag, thankful he had pulled on his black hoodie before rushing off stage. The overhead lights and the amount of bodies had made him start to sweat, but he hadn't wanted to freeze his ass off once he got outside. It was November, and Karakura didn't fuck around with winter weather. It wasn't absolutely freezing, but Shiro had never had a high tolerance for the cold.
He was about halfway through his cigarette when he heard a high keening sound, a sound he recognized from countless nights with loud ukes. Shit, perhaps the alleyway wasn't as deserted as he had originally thought.
Low and behold, the moment Shirosaki threw his useless cigarette butt into the dirt, an extremely tall, lanky man wearing obscene amounts of leather stood up straight from behind one of the dumpsters, a smaller, blonde man yelling at him about something or other. Frankly Shirosaki didn't care; it wasn't any of his damn business that two faggots had decided to get it on in the back of a gross alleyway where any goddamn passerby could happen upon them. Shirosaki was guilty of plenty of public displays of affection, considering he had a private pension for public exposure. It made him hot as hell to fuck around in public bathrooms, offices, closets, subways, elevator shafts, pretty much anywhere. He was that kind of kinky.
"Thought'ya were used to it, Blondie," a voice sneered.
"Ya didn't have ta be that rough! Fuck, thought you were gonna tear me in half!" the little bitch whined as they made there way around the dumpster and towards the back door of the club, both stopping as soon as they noticed Shirosaki's silhouette.
"Don't mind me, boys," Shirosaki called, trying to keep sarcasm out of his tone but failing miserably, "I ain't a peeper. I'll leave if ya were plannin' a round two."
Even from this distance, Shirosaki knew the little blonde was fire engine red in the face. He slapped the taller man's shoulder before huffing something under his breath and walking past Shirosaki with his head held high, opening the door and slamming it behind him without another word.
"Touchy bitch," Shirosaki commented to the tall stranger who wasn't in the light of the single bulb that cast a light from the back door, "Don't suppose ya got a ciggy on ya?"
The man moved closer, taking a cigarette out of a pack he had had stashed in those leather pants. Shiro consciously tried not to lick his lips: he loved leather. He hadn't seen the man's face yet, but the body was pretty impressive. No wonder the blond had screamed.
He held it out. As soon as Shiro's hand reached out to take it and touched the cigarette, the man moved his face into the light, his grin huge, his sunglasses looking ridiculous in the darkness of the night, "Heyya, Snowball."
Shirosaki almost dropped the cigarette. Shit, this was the last person he had expected to see tonight. Then again, hadn't he been the last person to expect at Byakuya's apartment? The last person he had expected to even remotely know Toshiro? They were all connected in strange ways. Shiro pulled his nearly empty red cigarette lighter from his jean's pocket, lighting the cigarette nonchalantly, blowing a stream of smoke out of his nostrils again before speaking, "So I guess the credit goes ta' me."
Nnoitra had this look on his face like he had no idea what the fuck Shirosaki was talking about, "Wha the fuck ya talkin' 'bout?"
Shiro blew another stream of smoke, smirking at Nnoitra, "Ya told me yer not a faggot, that ya'd never fucked a guy before me. Looks like yer playin' on our side of the fence now, ne? Welcome ta' tha' team, Nnoi."
Even though Nnoitra felt anger at the albino's words, he felt a stirring in his gut at the sound of his name on the boy's tongue. Shirosaki had only said his name once, had never repeated it during the fucks, and this was the second time and he had already picked up on the nickname. Nnoitra liked how it rolled off of Shiro's tongue.
Nonetheless, he'd have to correct the little smart ass, "I ain't a faggot, ass hole."
Shirosaki laughed, staring Nnoitra dead in the eye as the grin never left his face, "And I ain't a fuckin' albino, Nnoi-Nnoi."
"You little shit," Nnoitra growled, looming over the stripper, "I ain't in tha' mood ta' fight, so ya better shut the hell up before I change my mind and shove my fist in 'yer face."
"We both know there are better places to shove a fist," Shiro said silkily, taking another drag of his cigarette, enjoying how Nnoitra's mouth fell in what Shiro hoped was awe. He couldn't see Nnoitra's eye thanks to the stupid sunglasses-at-night-routine, but he supposed he had said something surprising that was making Nnoitra think dirty thoughts. Like he had said earlier, he was that kind of kinky, "Anyway, we need to stop runnin' inta' each other like this. It's gettin' on my nerves."
He turned to open the door and flinched when one of Nnoitra's hands slapped against the metal door, stopping him from opening it as he leaned in against the albino's back, lowering his head so that he could speak into Shirosaki's ear, "Why don'tcha show me those places, Shirosaki?"
Shiro felt goose bumps crawl up his spine and his dick stir in his pants. Yeah, that was a problem. Very few men had a voice that turned him on, and unfortunately for him, Nnoitra was one of those goddamned men. Shiro had never heard his name on Nnoitra's tongue before; he had called him Snowball so much he had doubted Nnoitra had even known his real name. It sounded amazing on his tongue, especially in that tone of voice.
But Shiro was no begging bitch, and he wasn't about to become one either. He was always in control of himself: he was a master at driving others insane. Nobody had ever driven HIM insane. Hell no! That was NOT what Shirosaki was about: he was the perfect balance of madness and chaos: self-indulgent, self-gratifying, and seductive as sin. He had learned to be that way, had ALWAYS BEEN that way.
And no tall, dark, and annoyingly sexy man was going to make him behave any differently.
He turned slowly, a coy smile on his face as he was met with very little room between their bodies. He looked up at Nnoitra, his fingers itching to tear away those fucking sunglasses, but he stopped himself, settling for putting a finger teasingly in a belt loop of those delectable leather pants Nnoitra was wearing, "I'm sure ya'd like tha', but 'ya smell like 99 cent man whore and week-old garbage."
Nnoitra's arms were on either side of his head now, discreetly pinning him in. Shirosaki had hoped his statement would rile the tall man up, make him lose his temper. But unfortunately, Nnoitra only grinned harder at him, pressing his body in closer, his mouth hovering in front of Shirosaki's, "How 'bout showin' me in the shower, then?"
Shiro tried to ignore the thrumming in his veins and his dick's urgent protests. Wow, this guy was a smooth operator. If Shiro wasn't careful, he'd get burned. Fire always burned, no matter how careful you were with the flame, "Don't got time for you tonight. Have people expectin' me back in there for some late-night celebratin'. Sorry, pumpkin."
"Ya don't really wanna go," Nnoitra challenged, his voice low and sultry, "Yer too wild fer that. Yer too antsy: ya can't even sit still for an hour-and-a-half movie. There are more ENTERTAINING ways of spendin' yer night, Snowball."
"Stop callin' me that," Shiro warned, ready to punch the older man, "Unless you want me callin' you Cap'n OneEye, ya'd better fuckin' quit it."
"Che, didn't know ya were such a pussy," Nnoitra said, that shit-eating grin making Shiro's fingers itch to knock every tooth out of that goddamn ridiculously sexy mouth with firm, gentle lips and a tongue that would rival the devil himself. God, just thinking about that tongue on his body was making Shiro nearly tremble. His knees were going weak thinking about what that tongue had done to him several nights ago, where that tongue had been willing to go…
"Fuck," Shiro breathed, slapping himself mentally for getting so aroused when the man was a complete Neanderthal. There he was, losing his cool and sense of control because he'd managed to stumble upon the one jack ass on the face of the planet that could piss him off and turn him on at the same time, "If ya want somethin' ta bang, why don't'cha go find Blondie again, ne? Sure he's not too pissed off at you."
"Blondie was good, but not as good as you," Nnoitra said honestly.
"Of course not," Shiro said haughtily. He had his pride; the only reason he had slept with so many was because he had been extremely reckless growing up, but that was a story best saved for a better time. He studied Nnoitra a moment before settling on his mouth, that nice mouth. He had to stop thinking about Nnoitra and his damn perfect mouth…
And what the fuck? Why hadn't he noticed that before? Nnoitra's hair had been braided back, but most of it had fallen out due to what Shirosaki supposed was Blondie's aggressive fingers. But that…that was just too. Fucking. Funny.
Shirosaki's snorted laughter began, making Nnoitra angry, "Wha the fuck ya laughin' 'bout?"
Shiro swiped a tear away from his eye as he pointed a finger at Nnoitra's face, "Word of advice, Casanova: I fuckin' hate facial hair."
"Fuck it," Nnoitra growled, ripping the Mortal Combat-esque mustache off of his face with one quick jerk, holding back a howl at the pain. He smashed his lips against Shirosaki's, quieting his laughter. Nnoitra forced his tongue between Shiro's soft lips, moaning as he ravaged the younger man's smoky mouth. It wasn't exactly his favorite taste, but Nnoitra was a smoker as well, so it didn't bother him. His tongue ran over the metal stud in Shiro's tongue, causing Shiro to nearly buck against him.
Ah, so Snowball was that sensitive, huh? Nnoitra practically grinned as he smelled victory. He shoved a knee between the stripper's legs, ecstatic when the boy almost whined as his knee brushed against his jean-covered erection.
Dammit. Shirosaki battled Nnoitra's fucking unbelievable tongue, still in denial of how long and powerful it was. It was currently kicking his tongue's ass, and when Nnoitra's tongue had rubbed over his tongue ring, it had been so sexy and left a shock in the muscle, turning Shirosaki on more than he already was. As of right now, the tent condition in his jeans was almost embarrassing. He had to get away from this temptation; he had to get away from Nnoitra before he lost his mind.
He pushed away from Nnoitra, effectively breaking the kiss. He pushed Nnoitra's chest again, giving him even more breathing room, "Fuck, don't you know when no means no? I don't fuckin' want to be with you."
"Oh yes you do," Nnoitra countered, gently leaning his arms against the door again, blocking Shiro for the second or third time, "or was that moanin' and mewlin' a figment of my imagination?"
"Fuck you," Shiro spat, barely controlling himself from the need to slap the annoying bastard, "you're an ass hole. Just 'cuz ya got money and fame doesn't mean I'm gonna let ya in my pants, you stupid fuck."
"Ya took money before, why not again?"
"Cuz I'm not a fuckin' whore!" Shiro bellowed, slamming his hands against Nnoitra's chest, catching him off balance and making him take a step back, "Don't fuckin' treat me like one, ass hole! You don't fuckin' know me, you don't know anything about me! I might take my clothes off on stage for a bunch of fuckin' perverts for cash, but that's how I survive! Fuckin' come near me again and I'll-"
"That's it," Nnoitra said, grabbing Shiro's hands.
"Let me the fuck go!"
"That's IT," Nnoitra said again, louder, "I knew ya weren't a fuckin' robot. Finally see yer temper, ne? Ya got some fightin' fire in 'ya…that's hot as hell."
Shiro stopped struggling a moment, completely lost at Nnoitra's words. Yeah, he had kind of lost it. He had never lost it before. His personality was just that way: of course he could get violent and angry, but he had never defended who he was or tried to make excuses for himself. He always laughed things off or tried to make the other person more uncomfortable than he was, but he had never revealed anything about himself to somebody else before, not even his roommate. Fuck, for the first time in nearly his entire life, Shirosaki had allowed himself to be vulnerable.
Jesus Christ, how fucking scary was that?
Why did this giant jerk-off rile him up so much? It was making him so angry, yet he knew from his heart rate and his rock-hard dick that he was turned on as hell.
And had he heard right? "It's hot as hell?"
"Fuck yeah," Nnoitra murmured, his hands snaking into Shiro's silver-white hair, "You're the hottest little thing I've ever seen. I almost came in my pants when I saw you on that stage and knew I had ta have ya. Then I fucked ya, and when I woke up and ya weren't there, I wanted to hunt ya down and fuck ya again. Yer fuckin' driving me insane, Shiro, runnin' through my fuckin' skull all damn day…"
"Ass hole," Shiro replied, allowing Nnoitra's long fingers to continue to run through his spiky hair, "I haven't been fucked like that in…Jesus, EVER. My body's still healin' from that fuckin' night, but right now my body's tellin' me it fuckin' wants you! It ain't fuckin' fair! You're such an ass hole!"
Nnoitra chuckled, placing a kiss on Shiro's cussing lips, "Yer too fuckin' cute, Shiro."
"Dammit," Shirosaki suddenly whipped out his cell phone, confusing Nnoitra for a moment before he realized the boy was calling a cab.
"I ain't touchin' ya again until we're at a decent place and ya've had a fuckin' shower," Shiro commanded, shoving Nnoitra away from him as he saw the man had tried to kiss him again.
Shirosaki opened the back door of the club, the band's music obviously replaced with some techtonic track over the speakers. Shiro yelped as he felt a large hand on his ass. He spun around and glared daggers at Nnoitra before kicking him in the shin.
Nnoitra only laughed, "Ya didn't say anythin' about ME touching YOU."
XXX
Toshiro answered his cell phone on the third ring, considering the band had taken a step outside to get away from the loud and obnoxious drunks, "Sup?"
"Hey Iceberg," Shiro greeted, "Listen uh, do me a favor and take Tensho home for me? I gotta run got some shit to do."
"Your leaving?" Tosh's eyes went back to the bar, as if he might see the albino fighting his way through the crowds.
"I already left. Took a cab. Ya can do tha' fer me, right?" Shiro asked, not pleading or demanding at all.
"Yeah, sure," Tosh said, amazed Shirosaki had left in such a hurry as to abandon his King Fisher guitar, "We just finished packing up anyway and were about to head out for something to eat."
"I owe ya one, Iceberg," Shiro said, hanging up on him.
"Who was that?" Ulquiorra asked quietly from Tosh's side.
"Shiro had to leave. Wants me to take his guitar for the time being," Tosh sighed, pocketing his cell, "Give me a sec; I'll be right back."
About fifteen minutes later Tosh and Ulquiorra had broken off from Soul Society and were making there way back to drop off Ichigo at his apartment with Grimmjow in tow. After some farewells and requests for the couple to stay for a few more beers, Tosh and Ulquiorra headed back onto the streets, winding their way through milling late nighters and towards an all-night café. It didn't have the best food, but honestly Tosh didn't care where they were as long as they were together.
"You alright?" Ulquiorra asked quietly, his chopsticks poised over his half-eaten bowl of pork ramen.
"Hm?" Tosh looked up at him, his chopsticks had been swirling in the bowl for several minutes as he had been lost in thought.
"You look deep in thought," Ulquiorra said, staring at his boyfriend intently, "Is something wrong?"
Tosh continued to stare into those gentle green orbs, wishing his gorgeous raven hair wasn't hidden by the hoodie, but he had gone into this relationship knowing it wouldn't be easy to be in public. Damn, he hadn't really given much thought to the relationship, really. He had jumped in head first, and after the other night…
Tosh's heart was more into it than he had originally counted on. He didn't regret breaching the physical aspect of their relationship, but he was beginning to wonder if it wouldn't just hurt him in the long run. He was already feeling so many things for Ulquiorra, and knowing that Ulquiorra was famous and would be forced to leave town at any time scared the shit out of Toshiro. How was he supposed to handle knowing his boyfriend was touring all over the country, attracting thousands of screaming girls and guys alike? How could he handle seeing him on t.v. or following him in the magazines and knowing he couldn't see him or kiss him for weeks or months on end?
"Nothing," Tosh said robotically, keeping his internal reverie from spilling out, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
Tosh plastered a smile, hoping his eyes weren't betraying him, "I promise."
XXX
Renji barged into his apartment, sufficiently plastered. He had gotten his drink on after the performance, plenty of people buying him drinks for some conversation. It had been a good deal, except for the fact that Byakuya had hovered over him like a fucking vulture and had kept him from making any scores.
Fuckin' sexy-ass, cock-blockin' son of a bitch.
"Why'd ya come with me?" Renji whined as he fell onto the couch, Byakuya trailing in quietly behind him.
"Because you're drunk," Byakuya said, taking a seat on the other side of the couch, "and you were avoiding Ichigo again."
"Didn't think he'd show," Renji murmured, his hands resting on his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling, "and he brought that blue-haired bastard with 'em. I'd know that shit-eating smirk anywhere, don't care what color his hair is."
"It looked like Ichi wanted to talk to you."
"Got nothing to say to him," Renji defended, staring at the delicious-looking boy next to him, "He didn't look mad or anything. He looked…almost happy."
"Maybe he is."
"S'not the point," Renji said, putting a hand on his forehead and rubbing his eyes, "he's supposed to be miserable, like me."
"You're miserable?"
"Pretty much," Renji sighed, "He was my best friend. Jesus, we did everything together; grew up together, broke our legs together, ate together, fuckin' everything…and now he's moving on without me, like it's nothing."
"Just talk to him again," Byakuya soothed, leaning back on the couch to get comfortable, "Ichigo obviously wants to sort things out before he leaves town. I'm sure he doesn't want to leave things the way they are."
Renji sighed: before he left? Yeah, cuz he was going to leave. Ichigo was leaving, leaving for good, and Renji had made a total ass of himself because he couldn't confront or understand his feelings. Under the influence of alcohol and confusion, Renji blurted, "I love him."
Silence. Renji hadn't expected complete silence. Finally Byakuya said, "I know."
"You do?" Renji said, sitting up and staring at Byakuya like he was a psychic, "How'd you…?"
"You love him, like a brother," Byakuya began as he stared straight into Renji's eyes, "Ichigo is the one person in your life that has always accepted you for exactly who you are; you want his attention and affection, but you don't think you know how to get it. So you were an ass and slept with his girlfriend, hoping to figure out if Ichigo would accept you regardless. Obviously he was upset, but it looks like he wants to work things out, even if it turns out not exactly how either of you expected it to. You love him, Renji, but it's not the kind of love you're going to find by sleeping with him."
"How do you know?" Renji said, his voice rising slightly, "yah, I see him like a brother, but I want him more than that. Fuck, I want him so bad sometimes…ya know Shiro? I used to fuck him when I wanted Ichigo. Isn't that sick?"
Byakuya just stared at him calmly, his stance rigid as Renji continued, laughing, "Ya get it now, Byakuya? If you're expecting something out of what you and me have going on, you'd better give up. It's just sex, only sex. I don't love you, and you don't love me, so-"
"Don't speak as if you know how I feel," Byakuya said dangerously, glaring daggers into Renji's eyes.
"So what? You love me, Byakuya? Is this the part where I run into your arms and we live happily ever after?" Renji snarked, chuckling. Fuck, he had better shut up: alcohol always made him say ridiculous things. Byakuya was a good friend, an amazing friend, and a guy that deserved better than this.
He deserved better than Renji. Much, much better. So Renji continued, "I let you fuck me a few times and now you think you love me?"
"I've loved you for years," Byakuya confided, watching Renji's eyes widen in shock, "I've always wanted you, even after watching you run to men and women alike. I've forgiven you in my heart countless times, always hoping that one day you'd realize I was always behind you, supporting you, waiting. I've never pushed you away, never denied you anything you've ever asked of me. I was so patient, Renji, and then the other night when I thought I could take full advantage of you…I snapped. And then you call me, begging me to take you, and I do. I indulged you, Renji, did what you asked, even though I knew it would only hurt me more. It seems I'm a glutton for punishment. You, Renji Abarai, are a sadistic bastard."
Renji's mouth was open as he tried to form words to attack Byakuya or at least rebuttal, but he had nothing to say. Everything Byakuya said made sense. The more Renji thought about it, the more he could see how Byakuya's words were true: Byakuya had never, ever let him down. Not even once. He was more than a friend; he was the most trustworthy and stable person in Renji's life, "Fuck."
"I have always known what I want," Byakuya said, standing up from the couch, not breaking eye contact with the redhead, "but I can't force you to want something, Renji. You have to figure that out for yourself."
Renji continued to lay on the couch as Byakuya's footsteps retreated, the door to the apartment rattling as it was closed rather forcefully.
Renji cursed under his breath, absolutely mortified that tears were threatening to spill over and down his face.
XXX
Ulquiorra had offered to walk Toshiro back to the dorms, Tosh not complaining as they walked through the cold late night. The temperature had to have dropped another twenty degrees since the sun went down, both of them wearing jackets, Tosh even sporting a sky blue scarf. Ulquiorra wondered how cold the Christmas season would be; it was only weeks away.
Tosh took the dorm room key out of his pocket, fidgeting with the lock for a moment before entering. It was one of the older dorms, not in the best of repair but not the worst on the campus. The room was dark. Toshiro flipped a light switch, illuminating the decent-sized space. Two beds, two desks, and a closet that looked like it had thrown up its contents made up the room. A few posters were spread around, along with plenty of Polaroid pictures taped up on the walls. It was an organized kind of messy that immediately referred Ulquiorra to it belonging to boys, but boys that still made a conscious effort of some amount of cleanliness. Tosh kicked aside a few gaming cartridges and a psychology textbook that had been splayed on the floor, a slight blush on his face, "Sorry for the mess."
"It's fine," Ulquiorra said, settling on the bed that sported dark blue sheets. He knew this was Tosh's, considering the two walls it was up against had plenty of band posters, autographs, and snapshots of Soul Society sticky-taped and pinned to the wall. Tosh took a seat next to Ulquiorra, his body rigid.
"Hanatarou visits his girlfriend on the weekends," Tosh said quietly, his fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket, "Y-you can stay over if you want."
Ulquiorra's lips turned up in a smile, "Do you want me to?"
Tosh's blush was nearly edible, "Only if you want to."
"Of course I want to," Ulquiorra said matter-of-factly, his brows pulling together as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, "Why would you think I wouldn't want to?"
"It's pretty warm in here," Tosh said, avoiding the question by standing up and removing his jacket and throwing his scarf on the ground, "I'm usually so cold, but the dorm heaters are pretty good. I can't wear all these layers…"
Tosh stopped his rambling as he felt Ulquiorra standing behind him, his hands resting on Tosh's hips.
"Tosh, talk to me," Ulquiorra said softly, dragging Tosh around to face him by pulling on his belt loops. Tosh swallowed several times, trying not to hyperventilate as he stared into Ulquiorra's eyes.
"Don't leave," Tosh blurted, tears brimming in his eyes as he tried not to shake, "Don't leave, Ulquiorra, please don't leave…"
"Tosh?" Ulquiorra's hands moved to cup his face, his lips placing gentle kisses on Tosh's forehead, lips, and cheeks, "Baby, I'm not going anywhere."
"But you will!" Tosh cried, his fingers gripping at Ulquiorra's belt loops, "You WILL leave, you'll have to! Ichigo's the lucky one; he gets to stay with Grimmjow because of his talent, but I have to stay behind! I can't follow you, Schif, and you can't stay behind with me. I'm holding you back, and, and…"
Tosh was horrified: damn, he had never cried like this before. He began sobbing into Ulquiorra's jacket, effectively wetting it in record time. Ulquiorra's arms gripped him tightly, pulling him back slightly to stare down at him. He lifted Tosh's chin to meet him for a kiss, distracting Tosh from his crying.
"You should just break up with me," Tosh murmured after the kiss, pushing against Ulquiorra's chest, "I'd get it, I'd understand…"
"I can't stay away from you," Ulquiorra reassured, distracting Toshiro with another kiss and roaming hands, "I'll always come back for you, Tosh. I love you, you know that."
"Mmmm," Tosh whined, unzipping Ulquiorra's hoodie and trying to push it off of Ulquiorra's shoulders. Ulquiorra allowed it, still kissing him fervently as they both began to disrobe. Ulquiorra unbuttoned Tosh's belt buckle as Toshiro flung his own shirt over his head, latching onto Ulquiorra at the same time Ulquiorra had been working on his light green shirt. Hands roamed naked chests as tongues sought Nirvana in each other's mouths, both unsurprised when their weight hit the bed. Tosh was soon straddling Ulquiorra's hips, making him grunt. Tosh's fingers ghosted over Ulquiorra's pectorals and down his abs before quick fingers unlatched the button on Ulquiorra's jeans and undid the zipper, effectively revealing the straining erection both knew was there.
"Tosh," Ulquiorra whispered as Tosh's fingers wrapped around Ulquiorr'a straining cock.
"It's your turn to just feel," Tosh declared, his hot breath making Ulquiorra's cock twitch. Soon that hot mouth was licking the head hesitantly before sticking his tongue in the sensitive slit of the crown. Ulquiorra's back arched at the contact, a moan escaping as Tosh began to trace the largest pulsing vein, his hands stroking in a pace he had set for himself. To Ulquiorra, it was sweet, unexpected torture.
But when Tosh's throat closed around most of Ulquiorra's cock, Ulquiorra's fingers twined in that icy white hair, barely able to control the urge to thrust up into that hot, eager mouth. Ulquiorra watched with lust-filled eyes as the small white head began to bob up and down, taking him as deep into his throat as he could manage. A few more minutes of this, and Ulquiorra couldn't take it anymore.
He pulled Tosh's head up, a line of spit running from his mouth to Ulquiorra's cock, his blue eyes hazy, his cheeks flushed. Ulquiorra flipped him over, both groaning when their cocks grazed against each other, the friction feeling incredible. Ulquiorra pulled Tosh's pants and boxers down, exposing his dripping need.
"Ah, Ulquiorra…" Tosh husked, his face and neck flushed as he tried to breathe. Ulquiorra quickly prepared him, not sure he could restrain himself for much longer. He didn't want to hurt Tosh, but he was within an inch of losing his mind. He wanted to be buried inside of Tosh right. The fuck. Now.
"The…drawer," Tosh drawled, his hand flying out to his side to slap against the small dresser. Ulquiorra reached out a long hand to rummage through the top drawer, his fingers grazing a small, skinny bottle. He pulled it out, not even reading the label as he slathered it over his fingers and began to prep Tosh's entrance, the scent heady and intoxicating. Raspberry.
When he had finally managed three fingers in and Tosh was thrusting back against the fingers, Ulquiorra knew it was time. He spread Tosh's legs more effectively, positioning himself at Toshiro's entrance and slid in with one, quick motion. Tosh's back arched and he nearly yelled, both of them shaking as they adjusted. Ulquiorra didn't even wait for Tosh's encouragement before moving, setting a brutal pace almost immediately. He had to. He had to, he had to fill Tosh up, make him believe he'd always come back, always want more, always want Tosh more than anything else. This was the only way, this was the only way…
"F-fuh, huh – ah," Tosh mewled beneath him, his arms reaching blindly for his boyfriend. His eyes were glazed over, reaching for Ulquiorra's neck, twining them there and refusing to let go as Ulquiorra kissed him tenderly, teeth beginning to bite at lips as sweat-slicked bodies fought each other on the dark blue sheets.
Tosh's hips worked furiously against Ulquiorra, making him moan deep in his throat, a black-nailed hand reaching out to grab Tosh's neglected weeping cock. A few strokes and Tosh was screaming Ulquiorra's name as he came.
"Sch-Schif," Tosh whined, his entire body trembling as his toes curled. Ulquiorra came seconds later, riding out his own orgasm by pumping into Toshiro a few more times before pulling out with a pop. He gathered Toshiro up in his arms, moving over so they could both breathe comfortably, Ulquiorra's face practically buried in Tosh's hair as he began to rain soft kisses down his neck and shoulder.
"I love you," Ulquiorra husked, his fingers possessive as they wrapped around Toshiro's still-trembling body.
"Nnn," Tosh said, turning over in Ulquiorra's arms to face him and give him kisses all over his face, "me too. I love you too..."
Ulquiorra possessed his mouth again, his teeth nipping at Tosh's bottom lip as he snuggled in against Toshiro, their warm bodies molded together perfectly as Ulquiorra pulled the covers over them.
God, how he would dream about these moments with Toshiro. Ulquiorra tried to memorize the feel of Tosh's skin against his, the heat, the breathing, the heartbeat. Everything had to be committed to memory, because very soon he wouldn't have Tosh in his bed. Soon, he'd be traveling the country, absolutely miserable because Tosh couldn't be with him. He'd beg Grimmjow to let him fly back as often as possible. He had money. He had plenty of money, so he didn't care how much it would cost to see his boyfriend, or even fly his boyfriend out to see him for that matter.
It would work out. It had to. It absolutely had to.
XXX Two Weeks Later.
Ichigo stared around the empty apartment, trying to wrap his mind around the changes in his life. It was a lot to take in, a lot to swallow. There were only a few more boxes to take care of: he hadn't owned a lot to begin with, and Karin had gone through most of his stuff that she had said would be worth money someday. Ichigo had grinned at that: his little sister had turned into an internet meglomaniac. He had no doubt in his mind she would be making mad money off of his old clothes and memorabilia. It was flattering.
A few boxes he had wanted to keep, so of course his dad had said they could store everything back in his old bedroom. Everything else had been given to friends or shoved off to charity. Tosh had been extremely excited to receive his t.v, "on loan" according to him.
Ichigo had worked his final day yesterday at Urahara's shop. Ururu had cried all over him while Jinta had threatened him that he'd better remember where he had come from when he got all big and famous. Urahara had smiled and shook his hand, telling him mysteriously that he'd be seeing him much more in the future. Ichigo hadn't known how to react to that, but he knew Urahara was a good man. He had been sad to say goodbye to such good friends and coworkers.
So here he stood, staring at the place he had called home for the past year. A place he had bitched and moaned in, swearing to himself how he'd get out of Karakura someday, make something of himself, do something with his life.
But seeing it empty…it made a lump grow in Ichigo's throat. He really was leaving. It really was happening. This wasn't a dream he was going to wake up from: he was going to pursue something so much bigger than him, something that led somewhere he had always craved and had never given a name to.
Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, a bit of sweat beginning to accumulate on his forehead from moving boxes downstairs. Isshin had brought the car over to pick up the final boxes, and Grimmjow had agreed to help, "You okay?"
Ichigo nodded, "It's strange, but it's…good."
Grimmjow grinned, wrapping an arm around Ichigo's shoulders and pulling him in for a quick kiss on the cheek, "Come on, let's get cleaned up. We got a party to get to."
Ichigo grinned: it wasn't exactly a party. Well, it was, but it was a promotional party for the Kanonji Festival, a VIP event that would introduce Ichigo to the new world he had emerged himself in. It would give him a chance to meet with some executives and other managers, and he'd be meeting the president and vice president of Yoruichi Entertainment, the newest partner in promotion for Espada. There was a tight knot in his gut, but an excitement that overruled the nervousness, like black swallow butterflies were beating around in his chest.
Grimmjow grabbed his hand and walked him to the front door, holding the door open for him to walk through first. Ichigo took a deep breath, not wanting to look back. No more looking back. Not anymore.
He walked through, feeling free when he heard Grimmjow close the apartment door behind him for the final time.
LONGEST CHAPTER EVER! It's official: 21 pages on my word document ~wipes sweat off of forehead~ I'm so tired. Please let me know what you loved, what you hated, and what you see in store for the future ~TPP