I love writing Kenpachi. He's such a kid sometimes. -TPP


Tipping The Scales

Chapter Five: Sandcastles


"So how come you won't sleep with me?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes as he stared up at the living room ceiling of the penthouse, a green lollipop dangling from his lips. He'd been trying to cut back on the cigs lately: he hated the smell of smoke, but it'd become a habit for dealing with stress. Nothing like a nicotine fix, so he'd been trying to kick the nasty habit with a sugar fix via lollipops or a caffeine fix at his new favorite coffee place, Shunsui's. The owner was a total spazz, which always gave Grimm a laugh, so he liked going there to bug the old man once in a while, especially when he was craving his coffee. A Grimmjow without coffee guaranteed a few bodies in coffins before the end of a workday.

"Am I not your type? Or is it 'cuz you're scared shitless of my old man?" Shuhei said with a snarky grin on the opposite side of the couch as he slinked closer, trying to gain Grimmjow's undivided attention, his hand running down Grimmjow's loose grey tie, "So what is it?"

Grimmjow cracked the outer shell of the lollipop with his teeth, rolling it around on his tongue before cocking his head to the side to look at Shuhei, "I'd never disrespect buchou like that, kid."

"Kid?" Shuhei snorted, now twirling the tie around his finger, "You're what? Two years older than me? Maybe three?"

Grimmjow smirked around the lollipop stick, "You'd like that, wouldn't'cha? What is it with horny brats and older men?"

"What is it with greenhorns and egos?" Shuhei shot back, eyebrow raised, "I know you have an ego bigger than my dad's mansion, but seriously, you should tone it down: you're still young in this life and you're not a god."

Grimmjow's smirk just grew, making Shuhei's face turn pink, "That you know of. Trust me, baby, if I believed in it, I'd rock your world so hard you'd need brain surgery afterward."

"Not fair," Shuhei pouted, making Grimmjow laugh.

"Look, maybe this is a shit excuse, but I think of buchou like I think a father would be like, so that makes me your older brother. I'd protect you with my life, regardless of my status in the family. Even if I wasn't yakuza, I'd take a bullet for you or your dad any day of the week, so call me soft, I don't care."

Shuhei smirked himself, making Grimmjow think the kid was thinking something a little too lewd, "Soft? I'd prefer you hard…"

"Sorry, slick. I'm a masochist for older guys I don't think I have a chance with. They're much more fun 'ta corrupt," Grimmjow cooed, removing Shuhei's hand from his tie before the kid's hands got any more feel-y on his chest.

"Ugh, how annoying," Shuhei groaned, going back to his side of the couch and picking up the remote to flip through the channels like nothing had just happened. Grimmjow couldn't help but smile: he had to give the kid credit for being so fucking blunt and straightforward. Definitely something inherited from Kenpachi.

And the kid was hot: there was no getting around that. Downright sinful, in fact. Grimmjow just had to keep his hands to himself.

And he hadn't been lying. He really did have a thing for older guys. His ex had been an obnoxious orange-headed doctor, but he was off in the day world working his cute ass off to become a productive member of society (if Grimm remembered correctly, the youngest Chief of Medicine in the history of Tokyo). Grimmjow had cut him loose the second he realized he'd never be able to make the older man truly happy, especially since he had so many plans for his life, dreams and ambitions.

Grimmjow couldn't guarantee he'd be alive in a month much less in ten years with a house and a dog doing family barbeques in the backyard with the adopted kids or whatever else Ichigo had envisioned for them. Thankfully, it'd been fun, and yeah, he'd had feelings for the 8-years-older male and vise versa, but they'd ended on decent terms. Ichigo emailed him once in a while from Tokyo and they managed to stay pretty decent friends, but the spark was definitely gone now that mileage and life choices stood between them.

That was the last and only 'real' relationship Grimmjow had experienced, and thanks to that experience, he wasn't sleeping around with anything that moved like his teenage years. He'd just celebrated his 23rd birthday, and call him a nerd but he was tired of meaningless sex. He wanted a connection with somebody, anybody, that wasn't in the life he'd chosen for himself.

So he'd admit it. He was rusty. It'd been almost a year since his split with Ichigo and he'd been relying on his hand to choke his huge gopher for the past eleven months because nobody had caught his eye yet.

Well, accept for a brown-haired, sleepy-eyed god.

And Grimmjow was freaking out, actually, considering the second he'd met Urahara's lackey in the flesh, he'd nearly had a coronary. It'd been ages since he'd felt like he'd been kicked in the gut upon meeting someone. Hell, Ichigo had had him nearly hyperventilating (maybe it had been because of the stitches in his forehead? He still had the scar through his right eyebrow to prove it, but whatever, back to the suntanned god). He'd gone to Urahara's shop to check in on the candy man and his foul mood (apparently buchou hadn't called him all weekend, stupid fuck) and Grimmjow had wanted to get some bags of lollipops (he ended up buying packs of the damnable sweet and sour things) and the sleepy bastard had been the first thing Grimmjow had seen, opening smoky grey-blue eyes and lifting his head from the counter at the sound of the tinkling bell. Grimmjow had headed down the closest candy aisle that had looked promising, perusing the bags but not really reading them, the lazy worker's head resting on a hand at the counter.

"Those are sugar free. The good ones are in the next aisle."

Grimmjow had just kept staring with his head cocked, the apparently-sugar free lollipop packages in his hands, trying to figure out how to be normal around the super hot hippie. He was used to dealing with cranky old dudes and men twice his age covered in scars and always wearing sunglasses and…well, being cranky some more. And violent. Even Gin was about seven years older than him.

So, needless to say, talking to a thirty-something man that was gorgeous even when he looked like he was going to drop from narcolepsy, a harmless pedestrian, was something Grimmjow had very little practice in.

Maybe if he'd been wearing something a little more sinister (he hated suits and only wore them when he knew he'd get shit on by buchou) so black slacks and a black button down was his usual go-to ensemble.

"Eh, thanks," he finally said with a shrug before whistling into the next aisle to scoop up some REAL candy.

"You like lollipops so much, you might wanna try the new sour zingers we just imported. Like crack on a stick, man," the long-haired worker continued in a bored tone before running a hand through brown hair that brushed past his shoulders and going around the counter to fix one of the displays.

Grimmjow loved longer hair on his men. Mm. He himself had used to run around with hair nearly to his ass before cutting it in favor of looking more professional a few years back (not to mention when fighting there were no rules and it tended to get in his fucking way) but shit did he love to tug on it during sex.

Grimmjow ended up grabbing half the fucking aisle just trying to get his mind out of a tangle at the thought of the hippie's ass. DAMMIT it wasn't fair for him to look that good in washed-out grey jeans! Not to mention the plain green and white-striped apron the man had to wear for the sake of the store.

Dammit, Candy: If I'd known your coworker was this sexy, I'd have checked up on this place from the beginning.

Grimmjow dumped his purchases onto the counter, reading the man's nametag.

Starrk rang up the young blue-haired gangster (he wasn't blind, for Christ's sake: the blue-haired Adonis had obvious gang and yakuza marks all over his arms and, most likely, his chest.)

Yummmmmm.

"You workin' all by yourself?"

"Yeah," Starrk said, making blunt eye contact. He'd never seen the blue-haired young yakuza before and, dammit, would he stop staring at him like that and talking in that…fuck, perfect voice?

This voice...

Starrk remembered Urahara answering the door the night of Jinta's birthday, although he hadn't bothered to open his eyes and peak through the hallway: he'd simply listened.

So this blue haired brat's associated with the loan shark…

"So you run this place with one person on duty? A crazy killer could come in here and rob you or something," Grimmjow said with a smirk and his eyes doing that quarter-lidded thing that made girls pass out, hands in his pockets, casual casual casual.

Oh yeah, you're a sassy sexual deviant, Grimmjow. Reel it in, ass hole! Reel it the fuck in!

Starrk raised an eyebrow at the weird yakuza, wondering how stable he was and if he was, indeed, about to get robbed, "You trying to say I can't handle myself, kid?"

Starrk thought the kid would pitch a fit: according to all those gang marks, he really shouldn't be shooting his mouth around, but something had tugged at him internally to mess with him. Maybe out of fear for Kiki, maybe a bit of bitterness out of not being able to help his best friend and godson. It could have been a lot of things, because last time Starrk took stock of his own life, he sure as hell didn't flirt with boys a decade younger than himself.

But the blue-haired punk's smile just grew wider, "Wouldn't dream of it, hippie. If there's one thing my scars have taught me, it's to never underestimate a man."

"Wise words for one so young," Starrk goaded, finished bagging the final selection of sweets: this kid either had a serious issue with sugar or was planning on opening his own candy shop, the total a staggering amount, more than they usually sold in a week or two.

"Aw, I thought we weren't gonna judge each other," Grimmjow said with a sigh, digging in his wallet and slapping down a few large yen bills on the counter before swinging the bags over his shoulder, "That's mean, Starrk. And here I wanted to invite you out for a beer when you got off. Don't worry: wouldn't take you to some shady yakuza sake bar 'ta have my boss ghost you or anything."

Starrk couldn't help but smirk at the kid's jibes: his voice was playful and sultry at the same time, like he knew he had complete control of the situation. Little brat.

"You make an adorable yakuza, kid."

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, studying Starrk, "Ya know, I've killed people for less than that, but you're so damn hot I think my brain's ignoring the instinct."

Starrk grinned, "I'm flattered. Truly. Mr…?"

"Call me Grimmjow," Grimmjow said with a sadistic grin, "Grimm is reserved for later. You'll be screaming it in my bed."

"Cheeky brat."

"Closet masochist."

"Punk."

Grimmjow grinned wide, "I'll take 'intimacy issues' as my final answer."

Starrk crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously defensive. Grimmjow didn't miss it. If there was one thing he'd learned to not ignore since childhood, it was body language. He'd been good at reading people from an extremely early age and obviously wasn't afraid to test his theories.

Starrk raised a dark brow, "You're extremely forward. Is that how kids get dates these days?"

Grimmjow shrugged, "You tell me. Is it working?"

"Depends. You buying?"

"Never paid for sex before, but if it makes you feel better about yourself, Charlotte, I'll buy you a few fruity drinks and let you flirt with the other bar patrons before taking you home and smacking that fine ass until you can't look at another man without thinking about my talented hands."

Starrk hadn't been able to stop smiling since the kid started: it was so…ugh, disgustingly endearing how confident he was.

And it didn't matter if you were male or female: confidence was sexy as hell.

"I don't put out on the first date."

"Then I guess it's a good thing this isn't a date," Grimmjow retorted, pulling out a business card with his free hand and sliding it across the countertop:

Jaegerjaques Grimmjow, Departmental Director

Zaraki Debt Services, Inc.

XXX-XXX-XXXX, extension 6

"Just kidding. I'm a gentleman, Starrk. At least until the third date."

Starrk watched the blue-haired wonder go before leaning back on the barstool behind the counter and reading over the card again.

Zaraki Debt Services, huh?


A new week had begun and Kenpachi threw himself into his work like a man who'd been stranded on an island for years and finally getting chance to jump ship back into civilization.

Endless meetings, paperwork to his eyeballs. He didn't care. Grimmjow kept sliding him concerned looks when he thought Kenpachi wasn't paying attention. Even Gin was starting to get on his nerves by the time Friday rolled around again.

Had he really gone a whole week without calling or touching the blonde candy man?

Kenpachi sighed and lit a Turkish cigarette, tugging at his tie as he approached his penthouse's bar. He'd admit he'd been drinking more, just to take his moodiness away, but shit, he knew he was getting up there in age and couldn't handle hangovers like his glory days.

Two glasses of bourbon later, the front door opened.

Kenpachi had his Sig drawn and pointing at the intruder, a practiced motion from years of being on one's toes.

He wasn't an old man yet: he still had scary reflexes.

"Heard you were being moody. Thought I'd come see it for myself."

"Fuck off, Ulquiorra."

Kenpachi put his piece down on the bar and lit another cigarette, blowing smoke out of his nostrils and glaring at his unwelcome intruder.

"No need for rudeness, Kenpachi."

The thirty four year old man was as expressionless as ever, his green eyes almost doll-like. He'd gained some color from his various travels: the Old Man had him deal with most of their merchandise in Europe and other parts of Asia. He was a creepy fuck but smart, fluent in half a dozen languages and an excellent businessman. Even now he was wearing an impeccable black suit with a silk tie.

He took a seat on the couch, staring at Kenpachi, "So what seems to be the problem?"

"I didn't ask you to come here."

"So the rumor's true: you really have found someone."

Kenpachi ground his teeth together, "Did Grimm call you? Or was it Gin?"

Ulquiorra's lips turned up slightly, "Does it matter?"

"Yah, it does. 'Cuz I'm gonna kill one of them."

Ulquiorra shook his head, clicking his tongue, "It's been a while. A year, I believe."

"Something like that."

"Well I find myself in this city for an unfortunate two days. I was hoping you were in the mood for some earth-shattering sex, but it seems you've been in a bad mood for a while now over a very delectable looking shopkeeper."

Kenpachi rolled his eyes and took the opposite couch, a new bourbon in hand as he eyed his on-and-off again business sex buddy, "What about your snotty little traveling secretary? Doesn't he offer you plenty of ass?"

Ulquiorra raised one ink black eyebrow, "Yes, plenty, but Uryu doesn't return the favor."

Kenpachi sighed and chugged the last of his bourbon, "So what, you want me to pound your ass enough for you to last another year or two?"

Ulquiorra shrugged, "It was on the agenda, but this situation seems kind of…tedious…to be dealing with."

"What'cha trying to say?"

"Kenpachi, we've known each other a long time," Ulquiorra began, resting his head on a slim and manicured hand, his legs crossed in front of him. The kid was fluid as water, "You're selective of your partners. To be honest, it was one of the reasons I first began sleeping with you: even for yakuza, you have a certain tenderness, gentleness, to you. You don't just take partners for a night: you take lovers. You're a good lover, Kenpachi. It's why I always came back."

Kenpachi wanted to growl and roll his eyes again and huff and whine, but he decided to light another cigarette and throw his head back on the couch, blowing smoke up at the ceiling, "Well, that's fuckin' cute."

Ulquiorra chuckled, "You even took a wife out of obligation, but anyone with eyes could see that you didn't love her. Even so, you took care of her. Had a child with her. From what I've heard, he's becoming quite an aggressive and entertaining young man."

"You fuckin' touch him I'll break your neck."

Ulquiorra chuckled again, "You're fiercely protective. It's endearing: it's what draws people to you. It's why you have so many subordinates willing to take a bullet for you like it was an errand to pick up dry cleaning."

"Is this supposed to be a pep talk or is there something I'm missing?"

"You're also a stubborn fool. You're protective, yes, but also fiercely possessive. And I have to admit, Kenpachi, if I did indeed have true romantic feelings for you, I would be jealous of the way your relationship has been developing with this candy man, regardless of the short amount of time. As far as I know, you've never hit a lover."

"Don't put me on a pedestal. I hate that shit," Kenpachi barked, his gut squirming at the look on Urahara's face after the beat down. Fuck.

"Maybe it doesn't mean anything coming from me, but I do wish you happiness, Kenpachi. Despite everything you've been taught, everything you've seen, you do deserve it. You're a good man first, a business man second."

"You done yet? I'm tired and wanna go to bed."

Ulquiorra stood and adjusted his suit, tugging the edges into crisp lines once again, "Then I shall take my leave. Have a good evening."

"Cuatro."

Ulquiorra turned slightly at his ancient nickname, "Yes?"

"You're still an unlikeable asshole."

Ulquiorra smirked, his eyes hooded, "And you're still a petulant child. Make amends with the blonde, you giant oaf."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Kenpachi alone.

An hour later, he growled as he picked up his phone and dialed.

It rang seven times, each ring making Kenpachi a little more irritated.

It clicked.

"Hello~! You've reached Urahara Kisuke's personal line! I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Or not. It depends, really. Have a nice day~!"

Kenpachi hung up and tried again. Voicemail.

Kenpachi threw his phone across the room, listening to it crack against the wall and break into two separate pieces as it hit the ground.

Fuck this.


Urahara stepped out of his bathroom, running a towel through his damp hair. He'd soaked so long in the tub his whole body felt like butter.

It was the first night he'd had the apartment to himself in a while: Jinta was at his best friend's house for the night and Starrk had said not to wait up for him, that he had a hot date. Between work and looking for other jobs, he was totally fried this week. Shunsui had agreed to take him on four nights a week while one of his pregnant girls was on maternity leave. It would bring a little more cash and keep his rent stable while he tried to work out the tangled mess that was his shop.

He'd cleaned out and re-mapped the inventory after going over a year's worth of sales reports. He'd cancelled nearly sixty percent of his chocolate shipments, as the hard candies sold better anyway. The international chocolate had been completely taken out except for one brand from America that the kids kept coming back for. Urahara had been amazed to see how much money he'd be saving a month just by cutting out the cost of international shipping.

He was still drowning in debt, but for the first time, Urahara felt like he'd finally taken more responsibility towards it and was on his way to digging himself out of the hole he'd created for himself.

So what if the store was downsizing on product? He was being smart: he wouldn't keep the non-sellers on inventory when that was money just getting thrown away.

Next was to work on a new marketing strategy. The sign out front was in need of new colorful paint: color really did help bring in business, as he'd seen from other stores across town. Something to draw the eye: green and white wasn't going to cut it if Urahara was going to keep the store.

Maybe run a cheap ad in the paper. He could live on cup ramen for months if it meant his store wouldn't be drowning anymore.

He'd just pulled on a pair of green pajama pants when there was a vicious knocking on his front door.

Urahara rolled his eyes, approaching the door and ready to give Grimmjow a good tongue-lashing. He'd come back twice since the last time Urahara had told him to stop coming to his house, to 'check up on him', but Urahara was sick of the unnecessary courtesy.

Urahara swung the door open, his protest dying in his throat as he stared up at the dark whiskey eyes of Zaraki Kenpachi.

His hair was down around his face, a button-up white shirt and black jeans. He looked amazing and smelled like he'd been drinking.

"I called you twice," he started, stepping into the apartment and pushing Urahara back as he closed the door behind him, "What'd I tell you?"

"I-I'm sorry, I was in the bath-"

"That sounds like an excuse," Kenpachi growled, his hands running down Urahara's sides and settling on his hips, rubbing small circles into the dips there.

"Kenpachi, wait-"

"No."

Urahara shivered at the tone as Kenpachi bit at his neck, his rough hands pulling Urahara closer.

"Nn, Kenpachi, no!"

Urahara used the wall he was against for more force as he pushed forward, forcing Kenpachi back a step, his expression questioning, furious.

"I-I'll do whatever you say, but not here. Anywhere but here."

"Doesn't look like anyone's home to me," Kenpachi replied, one of his hands playing with the slightly damp hair on Kisuke's neck. Urahara pretended it didn't feel good.

"You promised my son wouldn't get involved. If you want sex, it can't be here."

"I don't remember that part being in the contract," Kenpachi said, his other hand dipping down over Kisuke's ass to rub. Kisuke rolled his neck at the sensation, pushing back instinctually against the touch, "And you want it, so what's the real problem?"

Kisuke grabbed at the hand on his ass, trying to hold it still, "I'm serious, Kenpachi. You might've hit me like a whore, but I'm not one of your whores."

Kenpachi lifted his hands from Kisuke's body and put them on either side of Kisuke's head against the wall, "Did I say you were a whore?"

"You treat me like one," Urahara shot back, trying to stare into Kenpachi's eyes as defiantly as possible, "Yes, I sleep with you, but I have my pride. I have a son to provide for. I have responsibilities."

"You're nearly bankrupt. You're desperate. You need me."

Urahara lowered his eyes, making Kenpachi's gut twist around, "Then why don't I go work the streets? Turn tricks? I could pay you back that way. If I take on five or six johns a night, I could-"

Kisuke squirmed as Kenpachi's hands tugged suddenly at his hair, holding his body against the wall, his face deadly serious, "Are you fucking crazy? Do you think I SHARE? Are you out of your goddamn MIND?"

Urahara felt tears pricking at his eyes, his scalp burning and his heart beating fast, "Why do you even care? Either I'm a sex slave, or I'm a sex slave. At least on the street I have more control over whether I get hit or not."

"I didn't mean to fuckin' hit you," Kenpachi spit, letting go of Kisuke's hair, "You were acting like I fuckin' robot, like a sex toy."

"That's what you wanted!" Kisuke said exasperatedly, "From the beginning this has been business! That's what this was supposed to be, and I'm not stupid, Kenpachi. You haven't touched me in a week!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kisuke rubbed at his face, ran a hand through his hair, "It's been a week. I can't be the only one. If you made a business arrangement with me, then you could-"

Kenpachi slammed his fist into the wall, making Kisuke jump.

"You think I have contracts with every shopkeeper on the block? You think I fuck just anybody on the street who can't foot the bill?" Kenpachi said, his voice like acid, "Even if I did, then what? You sayin' yer jealous?"

Kisuke tugged at his own hair, "I don't know what to think! I barely know anything about you, what do you want from me? I'm sorry I have fucking emotions and doubts. It's not like you tell me anything: you just want my ass, and I want you too, I fucking know that, and I don't like feeling like that. I don't like thinking you have me and then go to somebody else!"

Kenpachi stared down at Urahara, saw the fire in his grey eyes. His stomach was doing flips and tricks and he didn't dislike it at all.

"There's only you, idiot," he said, grabbing Urahara's chin and kissing him, forcing his tongue in. Urahara pushed against his chest, but Kenpachi just put his hands on either side of Kisuke's face, locking him in, delving his tongue in.

Urahara's body began to relax, his hands tugging at the front of Kenpachi's shirt. Kenpachi's hands ghosted down over Kisuke's naked chest, making him shiver.

Kenpachi breathed into Kisuke's ear, "If you don't take me to bed, I'll do you right here against the wall."

Urahara sucked in a breath, trying to ignore his wakening cock in his pants.

Urahara nodded slightly, grabbing Kenpachi's hand and tugging him towards his bedroom.

Kenpachi gripped his hand back hard.

Kenpachi watched Urahara strip out of his pants and get on the tiny bed Kenpachi was about to break, his pupils dilated, his skin flushed red, his cock already up and dripping.

"So fucking sexy," Kenpachi said, removing his own shirt as he got on top of Urahara, spreading his legs wide to accommodate his waist. He dipped in for another long kiss, his fingers trailing over pink nipples.

Urahara's breathing seemed to change when Kenpachi's fingers brushed over the nipple studs, making Kenpachi smirk.

He dipped his head down, licking around each areola, tugging on the piercing with his teeth after he got Urahara good and worked up.

"Hnn, Kenpachi, just…"

"Shut up. I haven't touched you in a week. I don't wanna explode before I get inside you."

Urahara groaned at the words, Kenpachi's hand sliding up and down his cock.

He coated his own fingers in saliva before beginning to work at Kisuke's entrance, watching his body tense and jump at the slightest movements.

When Kenpachi inserted a third finger, Urahara arched his back and yelled, cum erupting and landing on his own stomach.

Kenpachi had to grab the base of his own dick to control himself: he could definitely get off just staring at Urahara, especially like this.

"You're so fucking gorgeous."

Urahara's legs were shaking, his own fist in his mouth as Kenpachi began to wiggle his way inside. When he was fully sheathed, Urahara was panting.

"Relax," Kenpachi soothed, running his hands over tense abs and shoulders. He leaned forward and down to suck on Urahara's lips, making the man moan, relaxing him slightly.

Kenpachi began to rock slowly, pulling Kisuke's leg over his thighs so that Urahara's legs were together, his body sideways. He'd wanted to try this position with Kisuke: it was supposed to be deeper and more pleasurable for both partners.

Urahara's mouth opened wide, a hand tugging at his own hair as he grunted at the deep penetration. Kenpachi started moving faster, addicted to the tight heat.

He'd missed this. He'd missed him.

"Ahn, fuck…fuck…" Urahara was chanting, one of his hands snaking down to grab at his own red cock and beginning to twist.

The sounds are what sent Kenpachi over the edge. He couldn't take it anymore. The blonde was too arousing, and the release was exactly what Kenpachi had needed.

He didn't pull out. He moved Urahara's hand and took over the jacking, his hand working faster with the precum.

Urahara thought he'd go crazy with the dull pulse in his ass and the hand on his cock. He screamed Kenpachi's name as he came.

Kenpachi finally pulled out, rolling onto his side and tugging Urahara with him to kiss him again. Urahara fisted his hands into Kenpachi's thick black hair, kissing him like a dying man.

Kenpachi's heart twisted again.

"That was so good," Urahara murmured.

"Your debt will be clear in a month."

Urahara's body stiffened against him. Kenpachi didn't move.

"W-what?"

"I put the money you'd given Ikkaku into one of my accounts. Turned it on one of my new shares. Doubled it. In a couple weeks, it'll have tripled."

"But that's gambling in this economy. You could lose it all."

"Then I just take the money out of one of my offshore accounts."

"I don't want you to do that."

"I'm gonna terminate this contract," Kenpachi said seriously.

"Why would you do that?"

"Cuz I don't date whores. I married one, though. Won't make that mistake again."

Urahara stared at Kenpachi like he'd eaten a baby.

"I wanna take this past the money. I wanna see where this could go. Buying you cheapens my feelings."

Urahara's eyes were huge, "Are you saying you want to…date me, Kenpachi?"

Kenpachi sighed, "Yeah. I guess that's what I'm saying."

"You actually like me?"

"How stupid are you? You're the only person I've ever done this for."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Everybody's saying I've been moping."

"I got jealous of your son."

"Huh?"

"That's why I – I thought when you were talking on the phone, when you said I love you, I thought it was another lover."

Kenpachi grinned, "So you were jealous."

"Maybe."

"Shut up and come here."

Urahara sighed as Kenpachi rolled on top of him, kissing him, making him feel a strange kind of happiness. This was so messed up. The man had hit him. This man was dangerous. He was a bloody yakuza whom he knew almost nothing about.

So why did it feel so good?


"So did'ya fuck 'im yet?" Gin asked.

"No, idiot," Grimmjow said, blue tooth attached to his ear. He ran a hand distractedly through his untamed blue locks, standing on the pier. Starrk was farther down, staring out at sea while Grimmjow pulled yen out of his back pocket to pay for the ice cream cones.

"Mah, how boring."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, "Well excuse the hell out of me for boring you. Don't you have a redhead to fuck into oblivion?"

"He's takin' a shower," Gin snickered, "Said I was banned from bathroom sex 'cuz –"

"I don't wanna know, bro," Grimm said, beginning the walk back across the pier towards his 'date'. It was weird to say, and he felt like an idiot for holding two ice cream cones. If any of his yakuza connections saw him right now, they'd give him hell for the next ten years.

He was dressed casually in board shorts, a white v-neck, and flipflops. An unconventional first date, but hell, Grimmjow needed to make Starrk comfortable with him before anything else, and an afternoon/evening at the beach had seemed casual and fun enough.

And Starrk loved to surf. Good thing Grimm had a thing for the ocean or he would've been screwed.

"I gotta go. Tell Renji we're still on for tomorrow. Byakuya's being his usual bitch self."

Gin snickered again, "Will do. Have fun mounting tha' hippie god."

Grimmjow hung up on his 'older brother' and approached Starrk, trying not to stare at his ass the whole time, "Strawberry good?"

"Yeah," he said, taking one of the cones and licking it immediately, "My favorite, actually."

They both worked on their cones, leaning against the rail and staring out to sea. It was nice. Grimmjow had actually had a blast with the hippie today: he looked so lazy and laid back, but the man was a beast in the water. They'd paddled out so much today Grimmjow wouldn't admit that his arms were absolutely aching, even his chest.

Their boards were safe back in the cloth-topped jeep Grimm had borrowed from Nnoitra for the day. The dude was a total ass hole, but he'd owed Grimm a favor for a while now, and he'd chosen today to cash in on the opportunity to cover the jeep in mounds of sand from boards and shorts.

There was no way he was letting his Mazda get fucked up. The other Yakuza made fun of him for it sometimes, but he didn't care. He loved driving them: so fucking smooth.*

"So, turns out your actually pretty cool," Starrk started, beginning to crunch on his sugar cone.

"Glad you think so," Grimmjow said with a smirk.

"So what is it that you actually do? Never heard of Zaraki Debt Services."

Grimmjow looked at him and sighed, leaning back against the rail, "You know, I was beginning to think it was too good to be true."

"Hm?"

"You're far from stupid, Starrk. You know damn well it's a front. We're yakuza."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you'd tell me the truth. Stupid, huh?"

"I get it. You're worried about Candy, but you don't have to be. They're made for each other. Christ, I don't think I could've found a better match for the big guy if I'd country-hopped."

"So they're getting serious?"

"I think so. It's definitely getting there," Grimmjow said with a shrug, crunching on his own cone now, "so did you actually have fun today or was it all business?"

"You mean, did I come to hang out with you because I wanted to spy or because I actually am interested in you?"

"Yeah, that," Grimmjow said with another smile, his head cocked, "Come on, lay it out on the table for me. It's not like I can ghost you here anyway. Too many witnesses and not enough bullets."

Starrk chuckled. Instant boner, that was.

"How about a little bit of both?"

Grimmjow leaned over and bit a chunk of Starrk's cone, chewing before answering, "Good enough for me. Any other subtle innocent questions you wanna throw my way before I ask you out again?"

Starrk smirked, "Sure. Wanna come back to my place?"

"Depends. You got beer and a PS3?"

"Of course."

"Then what are we still doing here?" he shot back, taking Starrk's hand and dragging him down the peer.

If anyone asked, Starrk wouldn't admit that he gripped back.


A/N: What the fuck's happened to this story? Fluff everywhere. Dammit. I like writing dialogue way too much. Also, wasn't sure how telephone numbers work in Japan. Never thought about it, so I just went with an American system (you can make up Grimm's number in your head, lol).

*Mazdas. Ugh. I want one so bad. I drive my friend's everywhere we go when I'm with her. Swear ta god my ovaries die a little every time I drive one. Smoother than whiskey.