Chapter I

A Silent Cry from the Canary

The air felt thick, heavy with fear and exhaustion. Ichigo drew in what he could through heavy gulps, mouth gaping between. He felt ragged, skin burning with fresh scrapes, bruises and fatigue. His eyes frantically tried to gain a baring on his surroundings. Twisting his torso, he tried to grasp the point of location, the sense of familiarity jabbed at his subconscious despite the fact he could only see a deep darkness that surrounded him. Even at his feet was indistinguishable from what it was; cement, grass, sand? He felt vertigo come over his conscious. Bile snaked its way up, but never fully breached his mouth, just the tang sitting in the back of his throat, a bitter memory of the taste. What was happening? Where was he? It felt as though time was passing around him, never keeping to one space. He tried to gain hold of his surroundings, only to realize he couldn't focus on his clothing, as if they where shifting in and out with the lapse of time itself.

Then the screams. The ringing of pained begging echoed all around him. The desperation to save everyone rose like hammer to his sternum, but the knowledge that he wouldn't be able to save anyone rung deep in his skull. Lives would be lost. He was naïve, and others paid the price for that. Childish notions kept him brave, stupidly so. And now, he watched as that thin blade pierced the skin of his chest, too quick for him to respond. Far too skilled to parry. And from the room hundreds of feet away, veiled in the dark smog. Then he was there, a pale, lithe form appeared suddenly before him.

Ah. He remembers all this play well. The best thespian in all the worlds was the main star in it. The stage finally revealed itself from the haze of the dream. A soft and slow melody plays from a turntable in the distance. Marble halls of pristine white lined with thick, maroon velvet curtains unravel from the smog. A place of secrecy, deep within the palace at Hueco Mundo, hidden far below to avert curious eyes from private chambers. Not even the Arrancar were permitted there, according to one Nel. Ichigo faintly recalled her cries when she told him not to go this way, but he was stubborn, thinking he saw an opportunity to take them down. He was wrong. Naïve, childish thoughts cost him. Cost many. Kurosaki knew he was seeing something forbidden, but he didn't come for that knowledge. He was trying to save them. To save Yuzu and Karin!

The agile man stepped closer still, his lithe form nearly undressed as only a hap hazardous scarlet yukata hanging dangerously low at his hips, parted enough to see something Ichigo wasn't sure he should have seen. The snake's thin, well sculpted legs flexed slightly as he moved. His silver hair was aglow in the nights' radiating light. He had blocked the moon's shine coming from the window that showcased dunes of pure white sand outside. Ichimaru Gin was the one in front of him, Ichigo remembered. The boy dared a glance past the pale man for a moment, just to glimpse what he already knew. Slowly unveiling itself down to the room where the handsome smug man dressed in white and burgundy was sat upright, confident and amused, legs elegantly crossed at the edge of a magnificent bed.

The orange haired boy hears something being addressed to him. Something cruel, but true. Ichigo knows this even though the words are distant and barely a whisper now, but that's okay. He's heard them a thousand times. Ichigo returned his attention to the one in front of him begrudgingly. Eyes of a cool cyan glint as Shinso is pecked at his perspiring forehead. The wound in his chest was incredibly small, a neat sliver where Gin's sword punctured him, but it was bleeding at an alarming rate. Something crucial was hit. It would be. Look at the one who was wielding the blade. Ichigo's world grew clouded, muffled anguish sounds around his being. Was he the one making all those sounds? A crescent smile widened and mocked the teen as the blade of the tanto was tauntingly pressed to skin, drawing thick blood with ease. That chokingly thick air filled his lungs too much. His breathing seized. Eyes fixated up at the smile, but fear blinded them. This is death. Everything around him reeks of death. Cruel, unbridled death.

"Ichigo.." A faint rumble, muffled and distant. It's not Ichimaru. It's not the brilliant coward behind him in the room not meant to be breached. Ichigo's chest tightens. Everything is losing focus as darkness spills over once more. First the room housing Aizen blackens, then the hall, the window, and finally the smog overtakes the dexterous beauty in front of the redhead. The distant voice sounds again.

"Hey. Ichigo."

Ichigo's eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing as he desperately tried sitting forward, feet flexing in a run response. However, a gentle yet firm right hand held on to his left shoulder, stopping him from trashing upward. The red-head's mouth was open and trying to formulate words, or even scream, but only silenced gawking and small breathless gasps befall him. His chest was still seized. The blonde man sitting next to him on the beaten futon, in his usual green traditional attire, hushes Ichigo with a calming rhythm as his old grey eyes were lidded with restless puffing along the edges. Urahara had been working on some new equipment when he felt the pinprick of fear and anguish coming from the youth's room. It had been years now, and still the repercussions of letting a child fight an adults' war was evident. Kisuke placed an uncharacteristically gentle palm with his unoccupied left hand on to the panicked man next to him, gently pressing soothing circles onto his bare, sweat soaked back.

"Shh, hey, hey. C' mon, Ichigo, you have to breathe, okay? Get in that first lungful." Kisuke rubbed and patted on the younger man's back. Ichigo was still wide eyed, but now looked to Urahara as if he had just entered Ichigo's room. Breathe? The burning in his chest reminded him the oxygen is in fact still necessary. He grabbed hold of the tired shopkeeper's collar, dipping his face down to his chest as he hungrily gasped in fresh spring air. But it broke the barrier of tears and the tears were suddenly flowing out. The blonde's heart broke, this was more intense than they usually were. The pain in the shaken sobbing was just too deep. Isshin should've been the one to consult him with this, but the father wanted to chaperon the twins' birthday party, and his friend wouldn't deny the man that. Luckily Tessai also volunteered to take on the cooking, so the girls could just enjoy themselves, which worked out well since it meant it they were alone that night. Kisuke and his portege had attended earlier for the actual gift giving and dinner, but when Urahara made his goodbyes, Ichigo did as well, to everybody's surprise. Everyone other than Abarai and Kisuke. They had seen the spark of fear, if only present for a fleeting moment, earlier on. Something had caused a painful memory to surface. "It's okay. Just let it out. Shhh. The kids are over at your house tonight, so we're the only ones in tonight. No need to hide it inside."

"There.. It. It was so dark, and. And!" He swallowed in some more air, shakily breathing out as he stopped himself from uttering anything else. There were some things he never wanted to say aloud. Demons to keep at bay, especially from those close. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to regain control.

"Shh. You don't have to explain. Not again, not to me. You're alive, Ichigo. Inoue-chan is alive and well with Chad-kun overseas. Your sisters are well and probably eating way too much junk food with Ururu and Jinta right now. Abarai-kun and Rukia-kun are doing well expecting their first child." Kisuke shifted and gently took hold of Ichigo's shoulders, pressing him back to lock eyes with his red rimmed ones, freshly drenched with cold tears. Kisuke smiled a small, barely there smile of understanding and apology. His tired eyes creased at the corners from age. "At this moment, we are all safe. You are safe. Your sisters are celebrating their birthday. They're both 17 now!" Kisuke was trying his best to encourage a positive atmosphere. Ichigo was still taking in air, filling his lungs deeply and letting it puff out from his lips, but his eyes were attentive. He glanced away, but when he looked back, he nodded and strained a smile while exhaling a soft 'thank you.' Urahara patted his shoulders, and then tussled his already wet and ruined hair.

"Aw, geez, come on." Ichigo suddenly became very aware of his grossly slickened skin, and the other older, and rugged, male sitting flush next to him. It was also then he realized his body wasn't as frightened as his mind was. He grabbed the discarded tee he had shamelessly tossed next to his futon earlier and brought it over to cover up his lower half. Kisuke was already getting up, the atmosphere certainly changed. He knew Ichigo would most likely never bring it up to them directly, but he and Isshin were both aware of the youth's redirects with the female populace, and his longing stares when the guys would be over training, especially during the times in the healing baths. He paused at the doorframe, not fully turning around to spare Ichigo further embarrassment, but softly speaking over his shoulder, looking through the open door.

"Want some hot sake? Yoruichi sent some top shelf stuff during the holidays. Haven't really broken into it yet. And I most certainly feel like a drink." There was a pregnant pause, filled only with the sounds of fabric moving and the youth shuffling.

"… yea. But, I want to jump in the shower first." Another brief pause. "Please."

"Aye, aye. I'll be in the kitchen whenever you feel like joining!" The blonde slid out with such soft footing Ichigo wouldn't have guessed he had left if he had not been watching. The older man made an excited 'oo' sound down the hall. "I think there's some leftover gyoza from the convince store as well. Fine dining tonight, eh, Kurosaki-kun?"

The sign that it was back to banter and smiles. The use of his family name, instead of his given. He wasn't sure if the old man knew he was doing it, but when he helped rouse Ichigo from his night terrors, he'd gently call him his given name. Kurosaki smiled a fond smile. The first time Urahara had by chance gotten to Ichigo before his father, the youth was both surprised to wake to the blonde, and honestly intrigued. He never really thought Kisuke would be so… gentle. Not that the green obsessed scientist couldn't be kind, look how he and his father aided Yuzu in the rehabilitation and helping her get used to the sleek wheelchair Urahara had built for her.

Ichigo's fond memories took on a sour tang. It was his fault Yuzu lost the feeling in her lower half. There was no one who could convince him otherwise. He knew, because they had all tried when he first came back and realized her condition. They did that to her, because of his reckless behavior. Punishment for trying to escape early on. Renji has been his closest confident in everything after, including the gnawing guilt he experienced thinking about everything that had happened. The maroon haired man would listen over alcohol while making far off expressions, occasionally inserting a comment or denial until Ichigo finished unloading. Then he would usually scoff or remind Ichigo of all the good he had done, all the positive things to look towards and how he wasn't just his mistakes. It was still a hard thing for the youth to swallow. He had not considered everything he had done to be equal on the scales.

He gathered up some blue joggers and black tank before he headed down the hall to the bathroom. He flicked on the cool light and squinted while his eyes adjusted before stepping inside. The traditional Japanese tiled bathing room was cool to his hot toes, but he dredged on, determined to rinse both the slick filth and nightmare away. Along with the white fluid he knew he would be exercising from his aroused body. Closing the door behind himself he considered briefly taking a quick in and out shower, but knew he wanted more than that right now. He wanted space from Kisuke, and to calm his erection. He shed his sweat soaked pj pants and tossed them next to the door. He stood naked and stretched his tight muscles and then scrubbws his still wet face. Damn, he had cried like a child in front of Urahara. Again. He thought about how easily Urahara ignored his physical reaction to both the nightmare and the older man's hot touches. He was sure the shop keeper knew his preference in partners by now, but lucky for Ichigo the older man never said anything, not even in his infamous teasing tone. Especially in the teasing tone.

He still felt a prick of shame that the memory of those thighs, those creamy and soft thighs, the exposed peach toned nipples against such a pale complexion, the part that allowed a small peak to something lush, forbidden and succulent… and that immaculate throat and toned chest peaking from Aizen's collar. All the memories of the time he spent with the two as their captive made him so aroused. So very aroused. He would curse himself for often using those memories to relieve his needs. That, and the realization that he associated pain with a deep pleasure. Often, he needed to be hurt in some way to be able to cum properly. They had done that to him. To his body. It was the one thing he never admitted to anyone, even his best friend Abarai. Though Ichigo had told the other redhead many things, he confided in a different way with another person whom he found to understand his twisted needs. But even then, he never admitted what happened in that room. What the two lovers made him do every day.

The 5th Taichou knew Ichigo liked men, officially being told after retreating to the room they were sharing from a long night out with everyone. The youth felt he owed his friend an explanation for the sudden disappearance after agreeing to help with the grill. Kurosaki was embarrassed that he had left the party early and suddenly, but things were said by a certain drunken bald man, memories brought up, and subsequently he became embarrassingly aroused thinking of Kira and Ichimaru making love. But, he never once spoke to anyone about what happened at Hueco Mundo. Not all of it. He deemed it dangerous information. Unnecessary, embarrassingly raw information. He could live with it. He would learn to deal with it. All of it. And in silence. He vowed to himself to never admit it to anyone, even his father. Even Renji. Even his sex friend. They knew he liked it rough, forceful and demanding in painfully bliss ways. But he would never tell them, he would just be burdening them with his nightmare of truths.

The water was surprisingly warm already, and soon began to steam as it poured down. Ichigo sat on the small sitting stool and sighed. He gathered the soap and loofah, and then began to work the porous piece until it produced enough foamed bubbles. Putting back the soap, he started with the back of his neck, scrubbing circles slowly, methodically. From the back of his neck to the hallow of his throat, he languidly pressed the loofah up to his chin, then down to his chest, circling his right peck. Daring a shy touch with his free hand on the nipple opposite, he rubbed it softly, then squeezed it between his thumb and finger, twisting the nub as the loofah slid lower over his no longer fit form. He tilted his head back to bask in the feelings as he chased the smog riddled memory of pale legs attached to a well-trimmed torso. The loofah fell to the tile in favor of grasping his firm, red erection. It was already leaking precum and combined with the soap and water was slick enough to bring to a sweet tempo. The nails of his other hand released his nipple to scrape dull, short nails along his sensitive stomach, and they caught the piercing on his navel. Just deep enough raise pink lines, and tug on the silver and black jewelry. The sting of the soap in welts and the rhythm of his pumping suddenly collided with the resonating memory of being bitten on his neck, and caused him to lurk forward, head bowed, as he released the heat that had pooled in his lower abdomen. He came, hard, over the wet tiles between his feet.

His breath was uneven and rattled as he sat up and rubbed his moist body from throat to hips with both hands, enjoying the post ejaculation haze while it lasted. He opened his eyes after a good moment, looking for where the loofah fell to. He regained control of it and hastened scrubbing his legs before rinsing the loofah and cum to the drain. He then lathered his hair with shampoo. Once soaped up he stood to rinse off with the shower head to side. It was splendidly warm and stifling fogged. Even the fog-resilient mirror he had hung up was dripping with steam. He wiped it in a single stroke, a fog warped image of a tired man revealed. He almost didn't believe those swollen eyes were his. He didn't know why the dream felt so horrid and enclosing tonight. It had been a good day, up until he suddenly recalled tight, inhumanly strong fingers around his throat. It was so fast and vivid he almost reacted. Luckily Ururu and Jinta had helped Tessai bring in the cakes with a boisterous Happy Birthday from all three, the others all following suite, breaking his tension just long enough for him to regain his composure before anyone noticed. As soon as dinner and cake were done, he had planned to leave, and with Kisuke's sudden need to retreat to work on his experiments, he simply interjected himself along. He was staying at the Shoten for now anyway, so it was fine. He couldn't let himself stay in the house with the girls. It made him worse, so much worse. It was a constant reminder he failed them.

The last of the soap slipped from his thin form, and he just stood for a moment, arms at his side, head rolled forward, eyes closed while just feeling the hot water run down his back. Then he turned it off and grabbed his towel. Urahara made a deal about them using the same towel when he first used the shower, and the next day Ichigo had a wonderfully fluffy and horrendously pink towel to himself. Courteous of one old man who shalt not be named. Ichigo considered grabbing the green one to the left of his pink one but decided against it. For now, but maybe next time. He dried his body off thoroughly before he got dressed and hung the big towel up and grabbed a small one to continue to dry his wet locks as he made his way to the kitchen. He would pick up his pants later, and if he didn't, he knew Urahara would without saying much other than something like be more mature, or that he wasn't Ichigo's personal maid. He appreciated the banter and realized in a solemn light that he has been causing trouble out of need of normalcy. He should have just tidied up now, but part of him liked the possible thrill, however tiny, of Kisuke doing it later with some come back. Even when the blond helped pick up after him, he would get his revenge in cold and calculated measures. Often embarrassingly so. Which led to banters. That led to laughter. To normalcy.

Ichigo reached to dining area, where said man slowly filled his glass, then with a short glance upward he filled the empty one on the table. His hat was placed on the table, hair mused and golden like wheat. The store gyoza was piping steam and probably way too hot to be eaten right away. The redhead sat across Kisuke, the towel draped over his shoulders, hair still wet. The filled cup was pressed across the table and Ichigo grabbed it up, saying a soft thank you before sipping it. It was hot. And it was certainly good. He sipped it again, this time longer and with closed eyes. He breathed out a sigh of comfort before opening his eyes. He smiled softly with lidded, tired eyes at the almost empty cup. He was better now, after the shower and now this quiet moment, filled only with the vinyl dancing about making classical Clair de Lune fill the room. The first time he heard the vinyl player after coming back to the shop, he had a massive panic attack. It was playing the same song that they loved to listen to. It was the first time he, along with a few others, learned he had triggers. It took Ikkaku and Renji to hold him until he regained some semblance of reality and sanity. He hid in his room for month after that. He quietly thanked Urahara for removing that record from the box sitting next the turntable. And respectively apologized to the ones present, especially the two who held him firmly, comforting him and not letting him do any damage to himself, or the others.

Kisuke rose casually which stirred Ichigo from his pensive thoughts. "What's up?" Ichigo inquired when Urahara came up next to him. The blond paused, an unreadable look across his features as he closed the distance and sat directly behind him, grabbed the towel from his shoulders and continued what the youth had yet to finish. "Wha- no, wait! I'll do that, so cut it out, old man!"

"Then you should have just done it in the start, Kurosaki~kun." Kisuke half sung, with a mocked merit. He was tired, between his visits to Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and still trying to find the time in between everything to work on all the things he wanted to accomplish. He worked the towel over Ichigo's hair with care, and the youth couldn't find the courage to shove the helping hands away. Said youth deflated, shoulders slacked in defeat, and just reached for the bottle in the middle of the table to refill his cup, while he let Urahara work the wet strands dry. He didn't have the energy to argue and felt guilty taking the scientist away from his work. At the least he could just be a good kid and sit still. "My, my, I didn't think you would be so obedient."

"… I didn't want to bother you more than I already have tonight. Just. Thanks. I guess." Ichigo felt the hands slow, and took that moment to swing the sake back to finish it swiftly before he picked up the bottle to fill the small drinking cup. "This is good. Will Yoruichi be upset for you opening without her here?"

"Mm. Probably." Kisuke laughed out a gruff rumble before he continued drying the youth's soft, freshly washed hair. "But, she never told me I had to open it with her present."

"She's going to kick your ass, you know?" He sipped down the contents greedily.

"Aye, aye. Probably so." Kisuke saw the youth refill his cup again already. It was a refreshingly good quality.

"Hey." Another swig, already reaching to refill again.

"Hm?" The shopkeeper scrunched orange strands with the towel thoroughly while he observed him.

"… You know, right?" The youth's shoulders flexed with a tense anticipation.

"That we should finish off the bottle, smash it in the kitchen and tell her it just fell off the cabinet all by itself?" Ichigo laughed at that stupid idea. That warmed Kisuke's heart, in all honesty. Ichigo snagged the towel and half turned to the subtly surprised blond. Ichigo looked him in the eyes until he felt a stab of embarrassment and looked to the side before speaking.

"No, about me…" he gingerly looked back at Kisuke. His eyes were a whirlwind of emotions inside. "Liking men?"

"Oh. Ohh. Uh, well," Urahara had never been so fluid and cat like in his life as he strolled back to his seat, all the while Ichigo chewed his lower lip with worry. "Honestly?"

"Honestly..."

"Well. Yea, and it's not that you're necessarily beaming it or anything. Just.. uh," he gestured for the bottle and Ichigo started when he realized it was still on his side, handing it over quickly with a soft 'sorry' as the other poured himself another drink. Ichigo grabbed up a cooled gyoza with the chopsticks near him. "Just close observation over the last 7 years, I suppose." He drank the whole cup and was refilling his second before the words even registered to the youth. Ichigo swallowed before replying.

"Damn." Ichigo ran daft fingers through damp hair while averting his eyes.

"Like I said, I doubt it's anything for you to worry about-"

"Ah, not that, well, I mean, it probably is, but no." He wiped his face down with a chuckle. Then he smiled lopsidedly as he looked Kisuke in the eyes. "I hadn't realized it's been that long since I've been here."

Kisuke didn't comment. Their eyes were locked, searching, and the air felt strange. The older man wasn't sure where Kurosaki was taking this conversation, and he wasn't entirely sure where he himself wanted this talk to lead to. Maybe the younger man just came to terms with a part of himself, and wanted to begin to build bridges regarding it? Or maybe he was just ready to let people know, be more open about it. It certainly wouldn't hurt, and Kisuke couldn't think of a single person who would openly object to him 'coming out of the closet' and just being himself more. "It has been. You moved in for training when you were 15. And now you're 22. Well, maybe not a solid 7 years straight," grey eyes flickered apologetically to the youth for having brought up 'that' time up. Ichigo shrugged with one shoulder dismissively. "But, still, it has been a good moment of daily routines, and remembered habits." As he spoke, he leaned across the table and halfheartedly thwapped Ichigo on his head with the closed fan.

"Ah! What the hell?" Ichigo rubbed the top of his cranium as he pointedly pouted at Kisuke while he leered.

"Stop chewing your lip, you'll make it bleed again." He sat back down and regained his drinking cup.

"I wasn't!" He self consciously rubbed his lower lip with dexterous fingers, while he averted his eyes.

"Yes, you were." Kisuke picked up his signature hat and plopped it back on while smirking.

"Okay, maybe I was, but did you have to smack me? Next time just tell me." Ichigo's childish pout looked out of place with his swollen and red rimmed eyes.

"Because you listen oh so well. You're still stubborn as ever." The two stared at each with pensive looks for a moment before they lapsed in a truce filled with carefree laughter. They both took their cups and held them up to each other before drinking. Both exhaling comedically. Then a sound rattled through the Shoten. Someone had entered. Renji came through, waving to the two men with a 'yo'.

"What, come over here to have your own little party?" He smiled, crossing his arms in faux judgement.

"No, not exactly. I was asleep just a bit ago…" Ichigo stretched his shoulders back while talking. Abarai observed him quietly and exchanged glances with the blond who just tipped his hat lower.

"Oh." Renji's look softened as he unwrapped his arms, his thumbs tucking into his jeans pockets. "Night terrors still?"

"… yea. Still." Ichigo had already been pouring another cup and downed it after he spoke. It was not lost on the other two the moment of bitterness that spiked. But he recovered by the time he looked back up to his best friend with a smile. "You guys returning the gigai to take off?"

"Yea, she's not feeling the best, and the gigai makes it uncomfortable for her." He thumbed back towards the entrance, were Rukia must have still been. There was her reiatsu, but someone else with her. Someone who had not been at the party earlier.

"Wait, wait. Is that who I think it is out there?" Ichigo rose up and patted past Abarai.

"Oh, yea! He popped up not long after you guys took off. Had some leftovers, and made the girls laugh."

"Really? Him?" Ichigo didn't even look back as he asked. He just continued, bare foot and eager to the entrance. Sure enough as he got closer not only could he feel their different powers, and he could hear them. His pace quickened ever so slightly. He rounded the corner and their conversation ebbed as they looked to Ichigo. Rukia was glowing with a radiant smile, and a round and healthy 6-month stomach. She was wearing a soft yellow dress with flats and petite white purse with bunnies on it. The tall man in black shredded jeans and tee next to her had a new haircut, the teal sides cut neat with the top shorter than usual and swept back and to the side. A classic faded undercut. It looked good on his cockeyed smiling feral looking mug. Especially with the new lip piercing and forearm tattoo. He already had gotten a panther on his back with nipple piercings the previous year and looks to be expanding them now. The newer tattoo was a fanged skull surrounded by blue flames with something written on a classic banner. And despite that, or maybe because it all, he was as attractive as ever. Ichigo beamed with excitement when they locked eyes. Grimmjow had been there since he was in Hueco Mundo, and not in the same sense as everyone else. He felt like he could be as honest as he could muster with the guy. They practically read each other's minds. Being with the guy felt as natural as breathing. He had missed him when he stayed out in Hueco Mundo to help Harribel handle some uprisers. He hopped off the small ledge and clasped hands with his friend and brotherly fashion. "Grimmjow, I knew it was you. What the hell was up with staying out there another 4 months, asshole?"

"Yea, fuck you, too, princess." They did a hand slide and pressed knuckles together all the while Kuchiki rolled her eyes lovingly. "Yea, little fucks were everywhere. Nel and Harribel actually think they're a new type of Arrancar, or something, so they're asking Kisuke to go analyze some stuff." He turned his attention behind Ichigo. "If you're not too busy, you old fuck."

"My, my, what a naughty mouth you have there, panther." Urahara mocked hiding behind his fan. "I do believe I can come out soon, I'll contact the ladies tomorrow morning since it's already 4."

"Wouldn't that mean it's already morning?" Rukia asked slyly before she covered her mouth to yawn. "Ah, mm, but seriously I'm ready to head back, Renji."

"Yea, me, too." He came up to Ichigo and cuffed him on the shoulder. "Don't be waking up all the damn time, get some rest like everyone else."

"Oh, yea, because I totally never try to." Ichigo replied dead toned with a look that could be read as drop off the next cliff.

"Just saying, let others help more. Maybe try the stuff Unohana-Taichou recommended. Might help?"

"Yea…" he felt uncomfortable. Mainly because Rukia and Grimmjow didn't know about the offer of sleep medicine, and he just really didn't like having these conversations openly. At least the anti-psychotics weren't brought up again. "But, hey, next month I'll be on break between classes. Wouldn't mind hanging out with you guys, and all the others up there." He gestured vaguely and put his best impression of a I'm fine and want to stop talking about this face. Grimmjow and Abarai took the hint, Renji passing him to go to Rukia and Grimm coming up next to him and catching him in a headlock. "Hey! Seriously?"

"Shouldn't let your guard down, princess." Grimmjow grinned and tightened his lock. Kisuke was heading back in, and the other two followed to get out of the gigai. Once they were gone Grimmjow released the kid. "Anything happen?"

"Huh?' Ichigo was rubbing his neck when he turned quizzically to the Arrancar. "What do you mean? You know I still get nightmares…" He lowered his eyes and felt embarrassed to talk with Grimm about this. Grimmjow wasn't the person he went to for serious conversations. He was the person he'd go to to get into pissing contests involving anime and tv shows, arm wrestling, and chowing down the most disgusting 3-hour old nachos or pizza before getting drunk and fucking each other all night long. Grimm wasn't his boyfriend by any means, and he wasn't even sure he really wanted to have anyone in his life like that, but he still felt a zing of excitement in seeing him back. He was aching to have sharp claws drawing lines while his insides were churned. A chill of anticipation crawled up his spine as Grimm stepped forward, closer. "You two smell like each other. Anything happen?"

Wait. Wait, was he just asking… about Kisuke? Ichigo's dead pan face split into a roaring laugh. "Hell no! We were just talking. Dude, are you jealous right now?" He was holding his stomach still laughing when his teal haired friend stepped forward, past being close. Shadows cast over his already feral appearance, giving him an intimidating look. He was standing straight, head tall, eyes fixed downward to Ichigo. The youth stopped laughing and looked up to Grimm, eyes looking between the blue ones in front of him. "Wait, are you?"

"No, stupid. I'm not jealous of that old guy. Is everything okay with you though?" The air felt different, thicker suddenly. Grimmjow looked hesitant before reaching to cup Ichigo's cheek and stroke his ring clad thumb over the freshly washed skin. There was too much happening. It felt too genuine. The teal eyebrows were knit together with concern. Did Ichigo really come off that bad tonight? "You look tired. More so than usual…"

"Yea, just. Bad dream, you know?" Ichigo put on a smile. Except his eyes were strained and didn't reflect any happiness. Grimmjow's expression softened, and it hurt Ichigo's pride to be looked at like that. "Stop, really… It's. I'm dealing with it, okay?" He covered the ring laden hand with black painted nails on his cheek with his own and squeezed reassuringly. Brown eyes filled with a swirl of emotion, as he looked up to soft pale, blue ones. Every so often he does think about it. Them. They studied each other for a beat, before the sounds of the others coming through made them take a step apart, Grimmjow inhaled and stuffed his hands in his tight jean pockets. Ichigo turned to the three coming back, Rukia and Renji both in their normal bodies. Rukia looked like she felt better being out of the gigai, rubbing her tummy tenderly. Ichigo smiled as he walked over to them. "Seriously, thanks for coming out for today. I know it made the girls really happy to see you guys. And, it was nice to hang out for a bit."

"Of course we would come, and we had a really nice time. Ichigo…" Rukia placed a petite hand on to his elbow and squeezed tenderly. "Be good to yourself, okay?" She spoke low and too kindly. Another squeeze and she let go, and before he could negate her concern, she went straight into another topic with a normal chipper tone. "We'll touch base with everyone at Seretei and see when and where to have a gathering. Probably be hosted by the 11th, since they have the kind of space to have an open party. Plus, Ikkaku-kun and Yamichika-san would be 100% down to host you guys. We'll hit up Urahara-kun with details once we get them. It'll be fun!" She smiled a cocky grin before half turning to her red headed lover, still talking quietly to Urahara. He saw her look and patted the older Shinigami's shoulder before he went her way.

"Alright, alright, I get it. We're off then!" He waved the guys off as the gate opened behind Rukia. They both walked through, Rukia looking back over her shoulder to Ichigo. She smiled, similarly to how both Kisuke and Grimm had smiled tonight. What was happening?

"Well, I'm getting back to my workshop, so feel free to finish off what's left of that bottle and the leftover gyoza, you two." The blonde waved as he disappeared into his home. The shopkeeper knew of Ichigo's sexual orientation before tonight and had had an inkling that he and the teal haired hallow were intimate for a while now. He wanted to make himself scarce for the night, and at the least he could finish up a few projects in his workshop.

The two waved while saying their good evenings to the man. Ichigo felt a little awkward after all the looks, but maybe it was the alcohol that was making him read into it too much. He made a point not to drink too much usually, and he kind of lost count of how many times he had a cup. On top of that he did have a quite a few beers at the party earlier. It was nice of Kisuke to share that bottle with him. He smiled softly in the blonde's direction for a moment while in thought. Maybe he was already tipsy. Grimm came up and braved a hand to his lower back, tender and arousing. It stirred Ichigo to shift his adorable smile to Grimmjow. Grimmjow smiled back before he pressed his hand closer.

"Care to share the goods?" He raised a brow and nudged his jaw forward, asking to join Ichigo in a night cap. The redhead snorted before grabbing the teal hair and bringing him down over his shoulder for a firm kiss. Just as soon as he did it, he let him go and started toward the dining area the sake was in. He teased a come hither look over his shoulder as he sauntered off. The Espada let out a breathy laugh and then followed his prey inside.