Ichigo stared at the ceiling. It had become routine to watch the large fan above his head go around and around. He found it odd that he never become dizzy, but rather found it soothing to chase the steady pace with his eyes.
He was waiting again. Another day of endless waiting.
Since he was dragged home by Grimmjow, nearly six weeks ago, he had been cooped up in the said man's penthouse. He wasn't allowed to go out into the city in fear that someone from the Shinigami might recognise him and report to one of the chairmen.
Ichigo looked from the fan to the clock beside the television.
8:06.
Grimmjow was usually home by now. Although on occasion he would be at work until the early hours of the morning.
Ichigo sighed and turned over on the couch. He guessed it would be one of the late nights. He'd be stuck alone for the night.
It's not that Ichigo minded being alone. He kind of preferred it these days. He still loved Grimmjow. He did. It was just when the man was around, he would never just let Ichigo be. He was always trying to motivate Ichigo to do things.
Ichigo recalled the week before when Grimmjow had asking him to help make spaghetti.
Spaghetti.
Who needs help making spaghetti? It's the easiest dish to make.
Kiran could do it.
He sighed loudly. Now irritated at the thought of the bluenette. He rolled so his back was facing the television and decided the best thing to do was sleep.
1:06AM
Grimmjow looked at the clock on his dash as he put his car in park.
He regretted not telling Ichigo that it might be a late night, but the man had refused to wake up that morning. It was getting progressively harder to catch the man awake.
When Grimmjow had first brought Ichigo to the condo, Ichigo would at least do somethings. He would be on the balcony most evenings or playing video games. Now he would just sleep on the couch most days and nights. Three nights in a row now he had refused to sleep in their bed.
Grimmjow had started looking for activities that Ichigo had once liked doing and making excuses to get him involved. His last effort had been the week before when he had asked for help in the kitchen, assuming he would get the help because the orangette had always loved to cook.
Ichigo had just looked at him from the living room. Instead of obliging Ichigo stole one of Grimmjow smokes from the coffee table and locked himself on the balcony for the rest of the night.
He didn't eat the pasta.
The elevator doors opened revealing the pitch blackness of his home. He tapped the light switch and the pot lights illuminated the space.
Not to his surprise, Ichigo was curled up in a ball on the pure white leather couch.
Grimmjow walked over and slowly patted the man's shoulder.
"Hey, did you eat yet?" Grimmjow half whispered. He didn't want to startle the man awake.
"Not hungry." Ichigo yawned and looked up at him with his big honey brown eyes. Grimmjows heart turned in a knot. No matter how many time he saw those eye, Grimmjow felt like it was the very first time.
Taking that answer without a word, Grimmjow made his way to the kitchen. "How was your day?" He asked. He bent down into the refrigerator and grabbed leftovers from last nights take out.
"Fine." Was all that came as an answer.
"What did you do?" He offered.
"Nothing much."
Grimmjow emptied the contents of the Styrofoam container into a bowl and placed it into the microwave. He turned to the man on the couch, who hadn't moved from his position facing the backrest.
"Did you eat at all today? There's no dishes in the sink," Grimmjow had noticed that all of the dishes where in their rightful place in the cupboards as he warmed up his meal.
"Not hungry."
Grimmjow paused a long while. He didn't want to cause a fight, but the man needed to eat. He had noticed how skinny Ichigo had gotten back at his apartment but hadn't realised that it was the result of a border-line eating disorder.
He fondly recalled the days of rough fucking on ever surface that would hold them up. Yelling at each other from across Ichigo's small apartment, not giving a damn about each others' feelings but still screaming "I LOVE YOU!" In every breath.
Things where easy back then, save for the minor Renji obstacle. They never worried about what each other thought and always had a strange acceptance for each others' personalities. He would kill to be able to take his love as freely as he had back then.
Oh, the passion. Oh, the good old days.
Living with Ichigo now was like watching a shadow of the man. There was no spark of the old Ichigo. It was almost suffocating being alone with the man. The air was thick, and the condo seemed smaller than it had before.
The lingering topic that neither of them where willing to start the conversation about. It floated in the air, like a dark, heavy cloud. It was always there.
He knew Ichigo was scarred of being found out by his former gang and forced to marry Kenpachi but Grimmjow has sworn, both to Ichigo and himself, that he would die before that happened. He didn't understand why Ichigo couldn't trust him. If he did, they could finally live happily.
Grimmjow to his bowl out of the microwave and placed it on the counter. "When was the last time you ate? You didn't really touch dinner last night either."
"God, Grimm. Just drop it. I'm not hungry but when I am, I'll let you know." The small man replied sharply. He was sitting up on the couch now glaring across the room at Grimmjow.
A glare. Anger. Ichigo was feeling anger and Grimmjow could see it a mile away. It was the first real glimmer of emotion he had seen in nearly six weeks. Bad emotion was better than no emotion, right?
Grimmjow quickly made the decision to feed the anger. Maybe we can get somewhere with this?
He picked up the bowl and threw is angerly into the sink, shattering the bowl and making Ichigo jump to his feet. "You need to fuckin eat, Ichigo!" He yelled, trying to sound as aggressive as he could. "You can't just sleep all day and starve yourself. You'll die if you keep going like this!"
"What else am I supposed to do all day?" Ichigo was stomping towards the kitchen now. "You," He spat as if it were a curse "keep me locked up here. I can't even go to the corner store!" He paused for a second. "And you're never home to keep me company! So please, tell me Grimmjow, what would you like me to do?"
" Anything!" Grimmjow was starting to feel himself actually becoming angry. Ichigo had deflected the eating topic all together.
Didn't Ichigo know that everything Grimmjow was doing was all for his own good. The Shinigami had hired some low-level gang from the boonies to track Ichigo down and he knew they'd have heard about the hallway incident. "I'm doing this for your own good. Keeping you here is the only way to keep you safe." He huffed and combed his figures threw his blue hair. "Just please do anything but sleep." He said quietly.
Ichigo stood on the opposite side of the counter now. He had prepared himself for a huge fight but Grimmjow was being so caring and sincere that he wasn't sure if he should go on. "I just-" Ichigo almost trailed off.
A quick flashback from that night and Ichigo wasn't in Grimmjow's kitchen anymore. He was in his own. He could feel his nails scraping against the wooden countertop again. He couldn't feel the unbearable pain that was happening to his backside anymore. He could, however, feel the looming presence of the tall, girthy man that was thrusting above him. Ichigo would prefer the pain of the unmistakable presence of that man.
Grimmjow calling his name snapped him out of the trans like state. "I'm fine, okay?" He turned to make his way back to the couch.
The moment of horror and the miniature fight left him exhausted. He curled back up into his place without another word to the tall man still standing in the kitchen and fell back to sleep.