Another update? So Soon?!
Summary: The Kurosakis owe a large amount of money to a mafia led by a certain blue haired demon, someone more interested in something other than cash.
I'm pretty sure this was a request so whoever this was to, just know I started this over a year ago and it's finally (halfway) finished haha
Warnings: violence, sexual themes, consensual sex, cursing
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"Fifty feet and closing, Sir."
"Good. Now get outta my sight and tell everyone else to leave too. This case is somewhat…personal."
It took less than two minutes for the area to be emptied. Grimmjow had been in a rather poor mood all month because of this client's inability to repay him, and when the kid had been spotted on the edge of Sexta territory, Grimmjow had wasted no time making sure he wouldn't be able to leave.
Grimmjow ran an absent hand over the short, thick knife at his thigh. The blade in question was shaped like the upper half of an animal's skull, with serrated teeth and a long front fang. It was showy, but very, very effective. The man couldn't help but smirk as he tugged it out of its sheath.
Yeah, it was gonna be a good day.
The only noise in the dark alley between the two seemingly abandoned warehouses was the footsteps of the hunched figure as his feet thudded against the cracked asphalt. Grimmjow slowed his breathing and allowed them to walk right past him, silently slipping out into the alley behind him. He followed close enough to smell the layers of dirt, sweat, and anxiety coating the back of the person's neck. Focusing his ears brought up new noises: elevated breathing and the slap of money against his skin.
Grimmjow and the figure broke into a sprint at the same time. Unfortunately for the teen, Grimmjow was fueled by the pent up frustration that had been brewing in his stomach for the longest month of his life and it took almost no time for him to catch up and tackle him.
"Come on. Did you really think you could get through here with no one stopping you?" It felt so good for Grimmjow to press his knife to the neck presented to him, pushing just hard enough to barely break the skin and let a small line of blood well at the hollow of his throat.
Now that they were up close, Grimmjow recognized the figure as Mr. Kurosaki's son. They had the same brown eyes, but the teen had bright orange hair and naturally attractive features and the sepia orbs burned with annoyance. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't afraid.
"I was actually hoping you would stop me because I have your money, jackass. Get off of me and I'll pay you."
There was, of course, no chance that Grimmjow was going to let him off that easily. He left his hand with the knife where it was and began feeling the teen's chest with the other, noting the curves of muscles and ridges of his ribs, grinning when he flinched as he rubbed a hand over his stomach.
"Stop it! Just let me up!" The smaller man tried to grab Grimmjow's roaming hand and Grimmjow growled, putting more of his weight on him and placing their faces an inch apart.
"Are you trying to piss me off? Or," He moved his hand so his thumb was tucked beneath the hem of the pinned teen's shirt, brushing his hip and the top of his jeans.
"Are you just flustered?"
Grimmjow's hand moved much slower this time, sliding around the toned torso to cradle his hipbone. The teen went quiet, looking away from Grimmjow and trying hard to keep a neutral expression.
"Where's the money?" Grimmjow's voice was soft, lilting.
"Are you gonna choose now to be quiet?" He played with the top of the frayed jeans, just barely letting the tips of his fingers slip beneath the denim.
"Is it here?" he said, grinding his hips down hard into the teen's crotch. Grimmjow got the reaction he wanted immediately, a sharp breath and a flinch so sudden the knife on the teen's neck left a cut a hair's breath from his jugular.
Grimmjow laughed and pulled the knife back before the teen accidentally decapitated himself.
"I'm just fucking with you, I know it's in your jacket-"
He never got to finish his sentence, because almost immediately after the threat of the knife was gone Grimmjow was hard in the ribs and shoved onto his ass. It wasn't an incapacitating attack, but it knocked enough wind from Grimmjow's lungs to give the teen a solid head start.
Grimmjow grinned before he started after him. God, it really was a good day.
The teen was a fast runner-probably a natural athlete-and they reached the fence blocking off the end of Sexta's turf in less than two minutes. Grimmjow watched him skid to a stop and stare at the ten feet of chain links reveling in his disbelief and waving a hand to signal for the men waiting in the eaves to come out. When he realized he was surrounded, the teen backed up against the fence and held up his fists, like he could punch his way through ten pistol-wielding men who probably weighed twice as much as himself.
"Give up yet?"
Holding up his hands, the teen reached one hand into his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash, showing it to the crowd before tossing it carefully to Grimmjow. Grimmjow caught it and counted out the bills. It was less than half of what his family owed. Tucking it into his pocket, he stalked towards the teen and stopped walking when their chests were pressed together, leaving the smaller of the two caught between Grimmjow and the wire of the fence. Despite keeping his hands in the air, the teen stared defiantly into Grimmjow's eyes like he still wanted to challenge him no matter the odds.
It was intriguing. Grimmjow brought up a hand and rested it in the carrot hued hair. A natural orange, he noted. Even more intriguing.
"Call Mr. Kurosaki and tell him his debt is settled." Grimmjow's grip on the teen's hair tightened and as his face contorted in pain, the mafia boss brought up his fist and crashed it into his jaw. The teen went limp and Grimmjow caught him before he fell.
Turning his back to the fence, Grimmjow handed the pliant body to the man to the right of him, a man with sharp cheekbones and a tall, thin frame.
"Clean him up a little and tie his hands behind his back. Don't make it tight though, I don't want any of you to hurt him. Make sure he's in my room when he wakes up but prepare living quarters for him as well, preferably in the room next to mine."
The man-Shawlong-nodded and brought him away. Grimmjow cracked his neck and walked in the opposite direction, unable to keep the grim from his face. Things couldn't have ended better than this.
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The teen was propped up in a chair when Grimmjow got to his room, still unconscious. There was a nice bruise on the left side of his face, already a strong shade of purple and yellow at the edges, starting mid-cheek and ending just below his jawbone. He'd gotten excited, hit him harder than intended.
Grimmjow shrugged and went to his closet, pulling off his shirt. It didn't matter that much. The teen was resilient, and a bruise wouldn't kill him. Choosing a dark grey button down and fiddling with the collar, he glanced down at his chest and wasn't at all surprised to see the red-purple bruise staring back. An eye for an eye, a bruise for a bruise.
As Grimmjow was rolling the sleeves of his shirt, the teen woke up.
"Ugh, where am I?" He muttered, trying to move his arms and discovering they were bound behind his back. Upon seeing Grimmjow, he gave a start, remembering the alley and the fence and oh God. Being pinned.
The teen's name was Ichigo Kurosaki, and he had a terrible fucking headache.
The headache was most likely brought on by the blue haired man who was the key factor in making his family's(and his life in particular) hell. Ichigo had already worked triple overtime for the money he had given the man, skipping school and sleep to placate the gang for at least another week. He had been rewarded with a kidnapping and the bruise he was positive was on his jaw.
"Have a nice nap?"
Ichigo glared. The man grinned back, showing off pointed canines too sharp to be natural. All of the man was sharp angles and strong curves, like he had been molded to be handsome.
"C'mon kid. It's not a conversation if only one of us is talking."
"Stop calling me kid. It's Ichigo, and I'm nineteen next month."
The man raised his eyebrows and sauntered over to the chair in which Ichigo was sitting.
"In that case, it's Grimmjow. But," Ichigo stiffened as the man straddled him again, pushing their laps together and making him feel at least four conflicting emotions including anger, fear, and pleasure.
"I can have you calling me God in less than ten minutes if you let me into those jeans." The man tugged at the hem of his jeans and his grin faltered just slightly.
"Damn, if I can even get in. How skinny are these?"
Ichigo forced a groan down his throat as Grimmjow ran his hands up his thighs and accidentally brushed his dick in the process. He convinced himself that the ebola virus and possums eating garbage were sexy when the man breathed down on his throat and gripped his hips.
"Get off me."
The man stopped moving and raised an eyebrow.
"Why should I? It's not like you don't want this."
"I-I don't," Ichigo stuttered as Grimmjow pushed his fingers into his pants, the small space forcing his digits to press tightly against his skin.
"I don't want you to keep going just because it doesn't feel bad."
"Then what do you want?"
Ichigo summoned up all the self-control he had and looked Grimmjow dead in the eye.
"I want to go home, but I doubt you'll let that happen so I really want you to get off of me. A shower wouldn't hurt too."
Grimmjow rolled his eyes and reluctantly got off Ichigo's lap, allowing him to let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Your room is to the left of mine," he said.
"There should be a bathroom attached to it. If you try to escape, I can't guarantee what will happen to you if you leave this building without me."
Ichigo stood and turned his back to Grimmjow so he could untie his hands. The man complied, but not without grabbing Ichigo's ass and wrapping an arm around his stomach.
"Come to me if you change your mind, Ichigo. You know where I am."
Grimmjow let go of him too suddenly, and Ichigo almost fell on his face before staggering out of the room. Ichigo was in too much shock to make a retort, and slid into his room with as much grace and poise as he could muster while being hard as all hell. Upon finding that the door to his room had a lock, he locked it and locked the bathroom door too for good measure.
The shower Ichigo took was rather hot and very long. The length was not only due to him jacking off(Grimmjow was an ass but Ichigo would be damned if that man wasn't crazily attractive. And to think, someone that attractive having an interest in him of all people!) but also due to the multiple escape plots he tried and failed to devise.
He just couldn't get his mind off that man.
Ichigo swore he did it all on purpose; the way his sleeves were rolled to show off the edges of what he was sure were intricate tattoos that covered his back, his hair and how it was just long enough to fall into his eyes and had the perfect amount of tousled, and a grin that had probably seduced a thousand men and women. Grimmjow was a man who got what he wanted, and since Ichigo didn't want him back he was probably going to be given a hell of a time.
Wait. He could use that to his advantage.
Ichigo stopped the shower and grabbed a towel.
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"A fight? Really?"
"Unless you can't without that knife."
Ichigo cracked his knuckles and his neck, trying to seem more sure of himself than how he actually felt. He didn't think he would lose badly, but he wasn't positive he could win.
"What are we fighting for exactly?"
"If I win, I go home. You don't bother my family and our debt is still settled. If I lose, you get to, you know," Ichigo looked away before he finished his sentence.
"Alright kiddo, let's do it. Hell, if you win, I'll even pay for your family's rent for the next three months," Grimmjow said, his mouth turning up into a shark's grin.
A twinge of anxiety churned Ichigo's stomach. Grimmjow was taking the bait, which absolved around half his worries, but he didn't seem at all worried that he wasn't going to win. Ichigo was strong and could beat everyone in the area around him, but he knew this was different, that Grimmjow was more…predatory.
He shook his head and stuck out his hand to shake on the deal. All he had to do was win, and he wasn't one to give up easily.
They took the stairs to the ground floor, Grimmjow humming and walking just close enough to Ichigo to invade his space. Instead of cringing away or showing his discomfort, Ichigo smirked.
Two could play at this game.
Grimmjow was walking just barely behind Ichigo when he came to a quick halt and bent down, pretending to tie his shoe and grinding himself hard into Grimmjow. He heard Grimmjow let out all his breath in one sharp exhale and felt hands clamp down on his hips.
"Thought you wanted to fight, not fuck," Grimmjow groaned, panting a little as Ichigo slid up his body and kissed his jaw, the highest spot he could reach on the taller man without getting up on his toes.
"You're right," Ichigo said, and elbowed Grimmjow in the stomach just hard enough to make him stagger back and let go of his hips. Walking down the stairs into the main room, a large space with little furniture and walls that were mostly bare, Ichigo held up his hands and assumed a defensive position when Grimmjow burst in.
"Let's fight."
It became obvious after a few clashes that Grimmjow was just playing with Ichigo, batting away his kicks and ignoring all of his openings. Instead of punching back half the time, Grimmjow taunted him and threw punches that didn't have half the strength of the one he had used to knock Ichigo out before. Eventually, Grimmjow caught a high kick from Ichigo(damn, he had long legs) and swept the other leg out from beneath him, pushing Ichigo's leg up to his chest and moving between them as he fell to the floor.
Grimmjow kissed Ichigo before he could say anything, biting at his lips and shoving his shirt up to let his hands roam all over his chest with none of the restraint he had before, feeling the man beneath him squirm and try to move away. He wasn't about to let that happen, of course, and followed Ichigo until they reached the back of a couch.
"Oh, nice idea," Grimmjow mumbled, too turned on to really care about sounding eloquent as he picked up Ichigo and shoved him into the cushions. Kissing at his neck and biting his throat, he felt Ichigo stop struggling when he closed his teeth on the sensitive skin beneath his chin. Oh man. Was that his sweet spot? Letting the skin go, Grimmjow licked the indents his teeth made and put his hand over Ichigo's mouth.
"When I move my hand, you're gonna tell me everywhere on you that's sensitive. If you don't," Grimmjow's other hand that was still trailing up and down Ichigo's chest tensed up and left a short trail of claw marks on his ribs.
"T-thigh," Ichigo muttered when Grimmjow pulled his hand away.
"Side of the neck, stomach-" He gasped as Grimmjow almost ripped his pants in the process of pulling them down and planted his lips on the inside of Ichigo's left thigh, sucking hard and definitely leaving a mark. All of it felt so good-the best someone has ever made Ichigo feel-but the coil of anxiety in his stomach was screaming for him to run and he wanted to listen to it so, so badly.
When he was finished with Ichgo's thigh, Grimmjow moved and kissed a trail up Ichigo's stomach, stopping below his bellybutton and biting at the sensitive skin. Ichigo let out a moan before clamping his hands over his mouth and cringing away from the larger man. Grimmjow stopped what he was doing, looking up at Ichigo's hunched shoulders.
"Everything alright, Kurosaki? Don't get stiff unless it's here…" Grimmjow grinned and palmed Ichigo's crotch, his smile faltering when Ichigo didn't respond.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's nothing." Ichigo uncurled himself and shifted his hips so they rested beneath Grimmjow's hands, but Grimmjow didn't take the bait.
Grimmjow had wanted to have sex with Ichigo Kurosaki since the moment he saw him, all slim hips and strong shoulders and eyes the man could drown in. All of the teen's carnal reactions and little groans were even better than he had imagined, but he didn't want to force it onto him. He'd seen what a willing Kurosaki was like on the stairs, and it was probably the most attractive someone had seemed to him in the past ten years.
Pulling himself off the man was probably one of the hardest things Grimmjow had done despite all of this, and it took all his self control to not bend Ichigo in half and fuck him anyways when he let out a small whine in response to Grimmjow's hands brushing against the inside of his thighs.
"Deal's off." Grimmjow stood quickly and was stopped from walking out of the building by a hand on the tail of his shirt.
"Why?"
Turning around was a bad idea made even worse by the fact that Grimmjow ended up staring dead into Ichigo's eyes. While he saw more than a little lust, Ichigo's eyes were clouded with confusion and nervousness, a brew that only served to make Grimmjow want the smaller man beneath him even more than he already did.
"Nothing. It's nothing."
Grimmjow put distance between himself and the building with long strides, trying to ignore the heat in the pit his stomach. Ichigo was left alone in the ground floor, out of breath with a new tear in his shirt.
They'd fought. Grimmjow won. Ichigo knew from experience the man was all about deals, so why didn't he seal this one?
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"Have you ever killed a man?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"How can there be a maybe?"
"You leave a man to die in an alley but you don't finish the job."
Ichigo had been in the building for a substantial amount of time, and the kidnapping wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Every morning, there was a carton of food and a pile of clothes outside his door that fit reasonably well. After changing, eating, and showering, he would come to Grimmjow's room and mess around while the other man worked.
"What about shooting? Have you shot someone?"
At present, Ichigo was on the floor of Grimmjow's room with the book "Beowulf" on his stomach, staring up at Grimmjow and watching him type out something on his phone.
"Yes, but I'm more for close combat. You know this."
" Yeah, I do…" Ichigo said, staring at the small collection of knives on the wall that ended with the knife that had been pressed to his throat not two weeks before.
When he was finished typing, Grimmjow sighed and slid from his desk chair to his bed in one smooth movement. Reaching down and plucking the book off Ichigo, he turned over onto his back and read the page it was open to.
"Damn, this is the part where Grendel gets fucked, isn't it?"
Ichigo snorted and rolled his eyes a little.
"If getting fucked means getting your arm ripped off, then sure."
"You know what I meant. Don't get all smart with me."
Ichigo stood and pulled the book back from Grimmjow's nose, placing their faces close enough to demand Grimmjow's attention.
"I want another fight."
Grimmjow sneered broke their eye contact for a second.
"Not much of a fight, from what I remember last time."
"Different objective then. First to touch the back of the other's neck or something. Different stakes too."
This got the blue haired man's attention, and he shifted so he sat up on the bed.
"I'm listening."
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ichigo tried to remember what his stakes were. Grimmjow moved like there was an animal beneath his skin, each gesture containing a certain level of grace and strength not found in most people. Needless to say, it was distracting. When he realized the teen was staring, Grimmjow reached out and grasped his hip, rubbing his thumb over the bone.
"I said, I'm listening. Unless you'd like to do something else instead?"
Ichigo made no movements to remove his hip from Grimmjow's grasp, but shook his head and continued his pitch.
"If I win, you let me call my family. Is there something you want if I lose?" He tried not to look at the hand on his hip when he said the last part.
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow and grinned, showing off his teeth in a way that sent a shot of adrenaline through Ichigo's stomach.
"I win, and I take you out to dinner."
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They fought in a different room this time, a smaller one with windows that let the light from outside stream in. Ichigo made sure to keep his distance from Grimmjow, not letting the man use kicks to bring them close together and noting how he turned his head to the side when he was about to strike.
It would have been easier to focus if Grimmjow wasn't a work of art. The sunlight caught his face too well, and it left Ichigo hard pressed to not stop and stare. How could a man be so nicely put together?
Ichigo's fatal mistake was his hesitation as Grimmjow sidestepped towards him, going for a block instead of seeing through the feint and gasping when a warm hand cradled the back of his neck and pulled him in close to the mafia boss.
Grimmjow brought their faces just close enough for the skin of their lips to brush together when he talked.
"Dinner's at seven. Be in my room or I'll have to come find you."
Once again, Grimmjow left the smaller man out of breath when he let him go and Ichigo couldn't help but to watch how his shoulders flexed when he left the room. He had been so close to winning, and seeing through that feint would have been easy in any other situation.
Had he lost on purpose?
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Lol none of u gave me feedback so I made it 2 parts anyways. Expect part 2….someday.