A/N: Thank you for reading so far. I hope you continue to enjoy it. :)

-Kieran

Chapter Two:

"So, Grimmjow, this is Ichigo. He's going to be tutoring me, isn't that great?" Nel informs the man, Grimmjow, enthusiastically pulling him toward the clearly rather thirsty man.

Ichigo tries not to seem rude as he concentrates on his drink. He's not sure what effect this man may have on him up close. If there was anything that was going to ruin this near-perfect meeting, it's this right here.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I've been looking for a tutor to help me get the grades that I need to at least give me a chance at getting a job in the future–"

"You don't need to work. I can buy you whatever you want," Grimmjow interrupts, turning his back to Ichigo, who refuses to admire the almost gravitational allure of Grimmjow's glutes, however, fails miserably, quietly berating himself for it.

No one should look that perfect back to front.

"I know I don't need to, Grimmy. But I really want to be an interior designer, and this is the way that I can make that happen–"

"I get that you're good at it and all, but you don't need to get an education. I know people that would be fucking stupid to pass up a recommendation from me," the blue-haired man replies bluntly, back muscles flexing beneath the grey waistcoat securing his upper body, provoking Ichigo to wish he could be temporarily asexual.

He's really not sure that he can cope with this.

Nel stands her ground defiantly, pinning her Brother with a hard, determined stare. "This is something I need to do on my own, Grimmjow," she argues, her demeanor sharp and serious, supporting her conviction. It must catch the man off guard, as his poise softens a mere moment before it's once again controlled.

"I can't stop you, Nel. I just don't understand why you're choosing to go the long route," Grimmjow tells her, turning his head to level Ichigo with a meaningful glare. For all his efforts, the orange haired man loses the battle to look away, even as a full body shudder rocks him to his core. Within moments, Grimmjow has refocused his attention on Nel anyway, crossing his arms over his chest arrogantly. "And who the fuck is this guy, anyway? He looks half my age."

Ichigo perks up at that, feeling the fog of something fade from his system as a scowl takes over his features. This guy clearly could do with an attitude adjustment. Maybe he just doesn't care that Ichigo is about seven feet away from him? A bristle dances up his spine angrily. For the sake of Nel, he's not going to comment, but he sure as shit is going to chew the guy out in his head.

"Don't be rude, Grimmy. This is Ichigo, and he's my new best friend," Nel informs him gleefully, moving around him to hook her arm through Ichigo's slightly bent one.

Grimmjow snorts at the statement, rounding on them both. "Does he know that?" he sneers, pointing unabashedly at the younger man's frame, cobalt blue eyes focused on his Sister.

Resisting the urge to dislocate the accusatory digit, Ichigo instead decides to stay completely out of this one, reasoning with himself that Nel is quite possibly the only person in the whole world who can smoothe this whole thing out, and it's in his best interest to leave this task to her.

"Yes, he agreed to it," Nel answers him, her tone miffed. "And, please stop, you're embarrassing me."

Grimmjow moves to speak again, but thinks better of it, shoulders sagging as hands that appear as though they've pretty much seen it all work their way into deep pockets. If Ichigo had to guess, he would say that the man looked a tad guilty for what he said–only for Nel's sake, though, and clearly not his own. The two siblings continue to compete in a silent staring match with one another, and Ichigo has the sinking suspicion that they're somehow able to communicate non-verbally, which would certainly be something rather incredible if it were true. Of course, that would also bother him greatly, for he wouldn't have the slightest clue what they could be saying about him without his knowledge, and he's none too comfortable with that idea, as he's already starting to get a bad impression from this guy.

If he's going to be coming here for the foreseeable future to tutor Nel, having issues with her Brother is going to impact his work, whether he wants it to or not. So, when they're done with whatever they're doing, he's hoping to avoid a confrontation, and just clear the air between them before it can be tainted.

After a long, awkward exchange of nothing between them, Ichigo is relieved when one of them finally says something. It's Nel, turning to apologise to him for her Brother's behaviour, which he lies about being fine with. It wouldn't do him any good to state how pissed he had been by the blue-haired man's remark earlier. He's not worried about losing out on the money, as such. Over the course of this hour and a half, he's really connected with Nel, and he wants nothing more than to be there for her when she succeeds–to guide her through it to the finish line, come Hell or high water, which means remaining civil is an absolute must.

"Why don't I go start making dinner while you two get to know each other a little?" Nel offers, not even waiting for a response from both of them before she unlinks their arms and leaves the room, pausing momentarily to whisper something only her Brother could possibly hear.

With Nel gone, the two grown men eye each other wearily. Grimmjow flicks his stunningly blue eyes shamelessly over Ichigo's form, and he can't help but feel as though he's under the microscope now–that Grimmjow making note of every little detail that he can find almost has him feeling violated in some way. His stare is so deep, so powerful, holding him in place effortlessly. The air in the room feels thick with the tension emanating from the demanding frame under his less obtrusive scrutiny. Ichigo fears that all of his skeletons are on display under the watchful eye of this man, so deep in his analysis that he fails to notice, or care, that the target of his avid observations is growing a deeper sense of discomfort with each tick of the longhand on his watch, piercing the silence with its monotonous intensity.

What feels like eons passes between them, when in reality, it's been several seconds. Whether or not he notices that Ichigo is having difficulty maintaining his own breath, Grimmjow decides to break the silence between them and ask what exactly the orange-haired man's intentions are here. He's demanding evidence that this is a legit business, and he's pushing for references that Ichigo knows that he has very little of, considering Nel would be his first client if he somehow manages to get out of this with his limbs still intact.

Drawing a calming breath in through his nose, Ichigo prepares himself to answer the best that he can. He hasn't the slightest clue what he can say right now to put this all behind them from the word go, but he has an inkling that saying nothing would only inch him closer to burying himself alive.

"If you want the truth, Nel would be my first client if she chooses to accept me. I'm just starting out, but I have a degree if you need to see it to believe me," he finally answers, ignoring the perspiration developing above his right eyebrow.

Grimmjow scoffs at that unapologetically, narrowing his eyes into slits. "If Nel is serious about doing this on her own, I can find her someone who actually knows what the fuck they're doing," he snaps cruelly, distaste in his tone as he runs his eyes over Ichigo's form once again, not even trying to hide it.

Ichigo bristles at that, his body moving to stand without his permission, squaring up to the man. If he's phased at all by the new development, Grimmjow makes no move to express it, remaining cold and firm as he waits to see what the younger man might do. There's a hint of interest in his eyes as well, almost as if he's eager for Ichigo to challenge him on this–to show his true colours when he's being backed into a corner. Being tested isn't something that he particularly enjoys, but wouldn't it be a mistake to rise to something like that? Ichigo's not sure of anything right now, as his body seems to be acting on impulse.

"You don't know anything about me," he almost growls, matching the animosity suffusing those antagonoistic sapphire portals. "And just because I'm new to this, doesn't mean that I don't know what I'm doing."

"You get that I'm going to be the one paying for this, right? Don't you think it would be wise to not piss me off?" Grimmjow replies patronizingly, smirking.

A voice far, far away at this point tells Ichigo that he should stop right now–that he should even apologise, pride be damned, but he doesn't have the will to listen to it right now. How dare this man–this man who doesn't know the first thing about him just come right out and insult him like that, and then make it seem like he's doing him a favour, meaning he has to knuckle under and kiss his ass while he's at it? That he's supposed to say thank you, hoping for a gold star on his behaviour report at the end of the session? No way. Ichigo doesn't have to take this. He feels bad for Nel. This might ruin any chance of them ever working together toward this goal of hers, but something about her Brother is just rubbing him in all the wrong ways. His tongue won't stay back behind his teeth no matter how much effort he's putting into keeping it at bay.

"Look, Grimmjow, I'm not here for you. I'm here for your Sister. This is something that she wants, and I think it's her right to choose. Yeah, it's your money, and you can probably stop this before it gets off the ground, but I'm not so money hungry that I wouldn't help someone that needs me. If she can't pay me now, then she can pay me once she's gotten to where she wants to go. An I.O.U, of sorts. But if that means coming here, to this house, where I might run into you, then I'm not sure that I can stomach it. You're a rude son of a bitch, and honestly, I don't have to take this shit from you."

Grimmjow responds with a cooing sound.

"Kittens got claws. You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

Ichigo glares.

"That's it? That's your response?"

A half shrug is all he's met with, one of those hands from earlier rising up to excavate some earwax. Grimmjow blows it off the tip of his finger in Ichigo's general direction, looking suddenly bored.

"What are you looking for? A job well done? Good for you, you're not so obsessed with money that you'd leave a poor man to starve on the streets. You want some kind of award for that?"

A tug of irritation morphs into something much stronger, Ichigo's fists clenching at his sides. In his twenty-two years of living on this Earth, he's never come across someone that can push his buttons quite like the arrogant bastard sizing him up right at this moment.

"What's your problem? Do you have something against your sister getting an education? Would you feel like less of a man if she started paying her own way?"

The punch comes before Ichigo has the time to even register it. It's a clean hit. He hears more than feels the pressure of his blood starting to drip from his nostrils, hands instinctively bringing his shirt up to cover it. He's eyeing his abuser with venom, not surprised to see the lack of guilt for what he just did, just lethargically keeping track of Ichigo with each move he makes, as if looking to see if he'll have to swing for him again. The objects of the attack are back to being hidden inside those deep pockets. It's as if the man isn't concerned that Ichigo might react in the same way once he gets over the initial shock of what just happened between them.

"Fucking bastard," Ichigo grits out from under his shirt, hurriedly collecting his things. Once he has everything gathered up, he hesitates when Grimmjow doesn't even turn to let him past, hyper-focused eyes still trained on his every move. They're almost feral. Ichigo doesn't have time to analyze that, choosing instead to carefully sidestep the man, needing to get out of here so he can go and see his Father and have his nose reset.

Just as he's about to open the door to leave, Nel pivots around him and puts her hands to his chest. She tells him to wait right here, that she'll be right back and she's so sorry for what happened. As soon as she leaves his side, Ichigo whispers a silent apology under his breath, leaving the house without saying anything more. He just can't bear staying there for a second longer. He knows that he needs to leave, that he needs to get his nose sorted out. There's no way he's going to be able to do that if he's lingering around, waiting for Nel to possibly placate her brother. Ichigo has confidence in her that she can do that, but he's not willing anymore to stick around and see the results.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have said what he said. There's just something about Grimmjow that irks him on levels that he can't even put a word to. While it's true that he's not the best at controlling his temper, this is the first time that he's gone from zero to sixty in the space of a few minutes. He's normally more controlled than this. Back when he was a teenager, holding his tongue was a mission in and of itself. He thought that he had worked on it enough that he could tackle any foe, and still keep his cool. Evidently, he was wrong. Accepting that he's partly to blame is one thing, but that cold bastard didn't have to punch him in the fucking nose. Actions speak louder than words, sure. That's something that Ichigo champions on a daily basis. Not when it comes to fist fights, however. He's been in many in his time. Started them, finished them. So, he doesn't really have a leg to stand on when it comes to doing the right thing in those situations. Nevertheless, those occurrences had all been when he was still growing up. To his understanding, they're both adults, and they should have been able to work things out in a more calm, mature manner–at least that's what would have made more sense in his head.

As Ichigo continues down the long walkway, keeping his bloody nose hidden beneath his shirt, he wonders what his next move should be. Nel probably would still work with him after this, considering she came to his aide even before asking what happened between them. She clearly understands that it wasn't him that instigated the whole ordeal. Ichigo just can't envision himself being comfortable being there after that. He wants to help Nel–there's not a chance that he can do his job properly where her Brother is concerned, though, and that wouldn't be fair to her. If anything, that's a good enough reason for him to move on from this. Nel will be better off without him now that his credibility has been tarnished. Even if she doesn't understand that right away, she would if Grimmjow appeared at one of their sessions together. Ichigo trusts that he'll become unfocused, and he'll make mistakes that he wouldn't dream of doing on a non-blue-haired-asshole day.

This is for the best.

Just as he's about to reach the closed gates, Ichigo realises that he's not going to be able to get out without one of the siblings actually permitting him to leave. He curses to himself, ignoring the childish desire to stomp his feet and rage at the blameless sky. Maybe if he waits long enough, Nel will take pity on him and just let him out without any more delay, as it's imperative that he has his nose checked out as soon as possible. Growing up with a Father as a Doctor has its perks, after all. He would set it himself if his pain receptors wouldn't discourage him greatly.

A car revving behind him prompts Ichigo to look over his shoulder.

Midnight blue eyes stare back.

A/N: Hands up if you thought it was going to be Grimmjow that got punched. :P

-Kieran