Nah, I lied. THIS is where people started to bitch. Enjoy (;

-Damn That Demon-

Chapter Five: Do What You Want

Ichigo.

What a fucking idiot. I watched my blue-haired boyfriend get a good tongue-lashing from Superintendant Soi Fon and couldn't decide if I wanted to bust out laughing or cry for him. His little antics during the lunch period and blurting out a series of expletives, not to mention 'belittling the females with vulgar language' landed Grimmjow a sound detention that could stretch for days if Grimmjow didn't repent.

Of course he didn't. He was that big of an idiot.

But he was my idiot, so I smiled like a moron as she finally released him and he took a seat at the lunch table, rubbing his ear with a hand as if he had been bitten by a mosquito.

"Way ta go," Nnoitra smirked, his piano-tooth grin fixed to his face after he shot-gunned a Red Bull, "And my detention was last week; looks like you'll be all alone in the Naughty Room by yourself."

"The Naughty Room?" I mumbled, my face heating up. Adding the word naughty to the word room only made me think about the bathroom, my personal naughty room for when I had to choke the gopher.

"The room Soi Fon uses for detention," Ulquiorra answered, twirling his fork effectively in the air, "it's a spare room right off of the gym with no windows and plain, boring white walls. There's nothing in it but a wooden desk."

"It's the closest 'ta hell 'ya can get without meetin' the devil," Gin smirked, his arms folded over his chest, "Trust me, an hour in the Naughty Room and you're screamin' 'fer a year in a state institution. They might as well put paddin' on the walls and call it the Looney Bin. She just locks you in there and leaves, comes back at five. It's the latest they're allowed to hold us withou' gettin' in trouble with tha' school board."

"So I'm guessing all of you have had some time in this Naughty Room," I said, raising an eyebrow. It was the first time I had heard of such a detention. Apparently only VIPs made it into such a torture chamber. It actually made me shiver.

"It ain't so bad when she throws you in there with someone else," Starrk drawled lazily, running his finger along his hotdog bun smothered in ketchup like he was stroking a dick, "But she never allows more than two people in there. Doesn't want to walk in on any fights or orgies, I guess."

I could feel the heat rush to my ears and neck at the mention of the word orgy and immediately imagined Grimmjow throwing me against one of those blank, boring walls and engaging in activities that had my dick stirring uncomfortably in my tight pants. Fuck fuck fuck. Think about something else.

"Yah," Grimmjow's grin was slow and lazy, but his blue eyes were practically laughing at me as I squirmed in my plastic chair, "Sure'd be nice if someone joined me for detention this afternoon."

The rest of the lunch period was spent in pointless banter. I paid as close attention as I could as I tried to settle down my thoughts. My mind was completely rebelling against my body, but it wasn't like I had never had a detention before, but obviously, I had never done anything bad enough to constitute a visit to the Naughty Room. Dear God, it sounded like the perfect place for me to be with Grimmjow during school hours. How absolutely, positively fucking brilliant.

I just had to get into that room.

Shinji flicked his blonde bangs out of the way, staring at me like I had completely gone off my rocker.

"So first you ditch me for your new boy toy and his rag-tag gang of sexy delinquents, and now you want me to help get you into DETENTION? What the fuck has gotten into you, Ichi?"

"I know, I'm an idiot," I replied, pulling him into my side with my arm around his shoulder to allow us some privacy as I revealed my plan, "Come on, it's the only thing I can think of that would guarantee some downtime in the Naughty Room. Help me out, come on, Shin. I'm your best fucking friend in the whole world. I'll owe you."

Shinji's misbelieving pout soon turned into calculating and he lifted an eyebrow, "If I do this, we're having a Hana Youri Dango marathon, complete with pedicures and karaoke."

I cringed at the mention of the insanely cute Japanese drama and the thought of my feet being assaulted by clippers and paint.

But I needed him. Dammit. "F-fine."

"Shake on it," Shinji commanded, holding out his hand. I put my hand into his and he squeezed really hard, making me grit my teeth.

"Need me to sign it in blood too, you sadistic fairy?"

Shinji just smiled and winked, "When are we doing this?"

It had been planned nearly perfectly, but even I couldn't believe how perfectly it had played out in the end. Honestly, half of it had been made up on the fly of the situation, like performing improv. The other half got pushed along thanks to Shinji, and it also didn't hurt that the whole ordeal took place quite inconspicuously right in front of Superintendant Soi Fon's office.

So here we go.

"I bet you take it up the ass!" Shinji yelled across the hallway, making a lewd gesture with his hand.

"Shut up, you flaming faggot!" I bellowed back, getting up in his face. A couple students had stopped and were now gawking at the sudden explosion between the school's outed gay delinquent and the flaming fairy that had always been Shinji Hirako.

Shinji scoffed, placing a hand on his hip as he stared at Ichigo with a smile, "Guess it takes one to know one, you butt bandit."

"What did you just call me?" I said, sounding sincerely pissed off. I hadn't expected Shinji to take it this far. Actually I had hoped Soi Fon would have walked out of her office by now due simply to the yelled bad words. Bad words in school were a no-no, but I couldn't believe the anger that was beginning to bubble up inside of me. Shinji had never teased me like this before, and although I had tried to mentally prepare myself for it, it was different now that it was actually happening.

"You gonna cry now?" Shinji taunted, looking like he was genuinely enjoying himself as a crowd began to gather. Most of them looked dumbstruck, as Shinji and Ichigo were best friends while the others looked like they couldn't wait to catch this all on their cell phones and upload it onto their blogs as the juiciest gossip of Hogyoku High.

"You gonna cry?" Shinji repeated, smirking, "Is it your time of the month?"

"Fuck you!" I spat, practically seeing red. I took a step forward, my body language threatening.

Shinji didn't back down in the least, only laughing quietly before saying something cheeky, "Not in this lifetime, sweetheart. I don't like pencil dicks."

"Pencil dick?" I screamed, lunging at my best friend intent on murder. I was going to smear his glitter-filled blood all over the hallway tile in 3, 2, 1…

"KUROSAKI!" Soi Fon bellowed, stepping out of her office right as I had tackled Shinji and landed a rather nice shiner right on the top of his left cheekbone. He began wailing and flailing his bony arms and legs, catching me off guard and making me pull back my fist. I was so confused that I didn't know whether to snort in laughter or worry that I had actually hurt him.

"Get away from him this instant," she stated flatly, making me obey nearly immediately. I stood up straight, running a hand through my hair as she pointed her finger at her office door and I begrudgingly let myself in and sat in a very uncomfortable-looking chair.

I sat. Yep, it was just as uncomfortable as it had looked.

And cold. Kami, was this woman the ice queen? It was freaking Antarctica in here. I was waiting for a penguin to waddle past her desk as she glared daggers at me, thrumming her fingers on her desk like I always saw in those exaggerated American sitcoms.

She looked good and pissed. Perfect.

"Kurosaki, I will not allow such behavior in this educational establishment."

That was another thing I loathed about this woman. Not only did she have no sense of humor, she was constantly using terminology that belonged in the dictionary. All she had to say was 'Stop being a dickhead in school' and it would have been just as effective.

"He started it," I mumbled, carrying on the delinquent persona I had perfected over my years in middle school and high school. I knew if I acted like I cared about my punishment, I wouldn't possibly land time in Naughtyville.

"Shinji was escorted to the nurse's office. You're in a lot of trouble, young man."

"Oh goody," I said flatly, sighing, "Look, give me my detention so I can go about my business. I'm gonna be late to P.E."

Her eyes flashed dangerously and I knew I had hit a nerve, "I think you deserve something a little more constructive than detention."

"Oh no, don't make me scrape gum from under the desks again," I rolled my eyes, "No, wait, better yet, how about I clean the cafeteria and clean the dumpster? Third time's always a charm, ne?"

I cocked my head to the side, challenging her. Come on, bitch. Give it to me!

"I think it's time to introduce you to the Naughty Room," she said, her voice filled with venom, "Maybe then you won't be so cocky with authority, Kurosaki."

My lips twitched as I fought a smile; I just couldn't help myself, especially after my mind started thinking about my time in the Naughty Room with a certain blue-haired demon, "I'm always cocky, Soi Fon-sensei."

Grimmjow.

Godfuckingdammit I hated detention. Especially in this shit hole the midget bitch liked to refer to as the Naughty Room. It looked like an unused interrogation room, dimly lit and ready for a horror movie. I was waiting for that creepy little girl with the long black hair to come through the asbestus-filled wall and claim my soul.

I smirked to myself: I wasn't sure if I really had one.

Well, Ma and Pop were convinced we did, but I wasn't sure. After all, I was a demon. An Espada, to be more precise.

I chuckled, thinking about my orange-haired berry of a boyfriend. He was so oblivious to the fact it was almost pathetic. Well, maybe not completely, as he often made inferences to me being a demon. He just didn't know how right he was.

He was right on the money, and that scared the hell outta me.

Well, not scared the hell out of me. I'm pretty sure that'd be impossible, as my people were from one of the prestigious rings of the Underworld, a white and desert-like land known as Los Noches. (Technically, I'd been born in hell, so could hell ever be taken out of me?) A spunky little place with wind, sprawling castle-front property and plenty of grotesque, hulking, beasties called Hollows to kill whenever one so felt inclined.

I sighed: I kinda missed it. Pop had told me maybe next summer we'd take a trip back, visit the relatives who hadn't come to the human plain this millennia. I loved my homeland, but Kami it got boring after a few centuries. Every few millennia I convinced some of the fam to come back to the human plain, and usually it was a success. This time I had gotten Ma and Pop to come, along with my favorite cousin Nel and my extremely powerful Uncle Aizen. He had been married into the family, thankfully. He was a strong demon, one of the oldest of our personal ring of hell, and when he got angry, his transformed demon self was so fucking scary it melted the flesh right off of human beings. Well, theoretically, anyway.

My family was strictly against human slaying or consuming human blood, so I wouldn't know, but from the rumors and the old stories, my Uncle Aizen was one bad ass motherfucker that was partially responsible for the time period in history known as the Dark Ages. He had told me once that he preferred his released demon state, but it was more practical to wear a "human meat suit whilst in the human plain." Even though my uncle was scary and creepy, he was still cool as fuck and was a great dad to Nel. Nel was practically my sister; I was only a few centuries older than her, so we had grown up together, fought other demons together, consumed their blood and flesh and made them explode like fireworks with our powers together. Ah, such good times.

I sighed deeply, staring at the clock. I cracked my neck in both directions, rolled my shoulders, and prepared to daydream for the next two hours. It would have been all too simple to simply break the door down and walk out and forget this whole mess. Better yet, I was contemplating obliterating the entire room with a weak cero when I heard the door click.

His smell hit me before anything else. Fresh and slightly tropical with a hint of musk from cologne. My mouth watered as I thought about the flesh that belonged to that smell, the cinnamon brown eyes I could stare into for days.

Ichigo Kurosaki had just entered the Naughty Room.

I knew my grin must have been in danger of eating my face at this point, but I quickly erased it as soon as I saw Soi Fon standing behind him. I read her emotions, particularly savoring one of my favorites, disdain. It was just so dirty. I love it.

"Looks like you have a roomie today, Jaegerjaques," she commented, watching Ichigo drag in another wooden desk that had been ready in the hallway, "I'll be back in two hours, and there had better not be any fighting."

I showed her my teeth in a menacing grin, actually getting excited when I felt her fear caress against my skin. Shit, it was nearly as good as a blowjob. I clicked my teeth, "Ne, sensei, ya know I prefer to use my tongue over my fists."

I almost came in my pants as I felt the emotions erupting from my boyfriend. Embarrassment and lust were rolling off of him in delicious waves that had me almost breathless. It had been a long time since I'd eaten, and Ichigo was looking to be like a particularly tasty entrée.

Soi Fon glared at him a moment before closing the door and locking it, her high heels clicking as she walked down the hallway. I gave the berry a few seconds to adjust to the room before I turned slightly in my desk, cocking my head to the side and offering him an award-winning grin, "Aw, ya did all this for me? You shouldn't have."

I wanted to lick the blush right off of him. Fuck, did he have any idea how delectable he looked right now? All I needed to do was stick an apple in his mouth, strip him down and stick him on a silver platter and it was Happy Thanksgiving.

"Yeah, I guess," Ichigo mumbled, his cheeks still dusted a bright red, making his freckles stand out. FUCK, I'd never liked freckles before this kid and here I was, ready to rape him because of his blush and those damn little beauty marks.

Control, Grimmjow, I commanded myself. I was almost one thousand years old and here I was, acting like it was my first crush in middle school. I felt like a fucking virgin stuck in a cheesy 80's American romantic comedy.

"So how'd'ja do it?" I asked, curious. I could read his emotional spikes, but his thoughts were a mystery. I hadn't inherited those powers, although I cursed my Ma everyday for having them. It was already unfair that mothers had such incredible and sharp female intuition, but add mindreading to the equation and you had a mother that was scarier than anything I could possibly face in the human plain or in the rings of hell.

Ichigo shrugged, "Picked a fight with Shinji and punched him."

I smiled again, feeling a purr build up in my chest, "So ya punched a flamer. Not bad."

"Fuck you."

"So soon, sweetie?"

I almost licked my lips at the tentative lust spiking from the body next to me, physically stopping myself from touching him. Jesus he was potent. Maybe it was because he was the only person I'd been focusing on for the past few months, but just drinking in his emotions was beginning to fill me up, satiate a hunger in the depths of my stomach that was always gnawing at me.

That was one of the drawbacks to being an Espada: I was always hungry, always had a hollow pit in my stomach.

And I mean that literally. In my released form, I have a perfect circle punched through my stomach, sharp claws, and elongated teeth that would make a tiger shriek in terror. My ears grew too, which I was none too fond of considering it made me look like some kind of cat. The familial blood blue markings are the final touch, which are accented around my eyes. If demons had birthmarks, those were mine. But my released form was my most powerful: dunno what the deal was with my hair growing past my ass in that form, but that was part of the package too.

I scratched my head, turning my full attention to those chocolate saucers of perfection. Seriously, it sounds sappy, but I could probably go indefinitely staring into Ichigo's eyes. I don't like to sit still, I hate it, but I could sit for hours, probably even years, still as a statue as long as I was staring at this strawberry. If feeding didn't dictate me living or dying, I'd probably do just that.

He was just too fucking perfect for me, and it made my insides all mushy when I thought about how forcefully I had connected with him. Like we were fucking magnetized and all the powers of the universe had brought us together. Alright, maybe that's going a little overboard, but the more I thought about it, the more I believed it.

Of all the cities in all the world and of all the high schools in all of the city, and I had been lucky enough to run into the one man (boy? Child?) that made my heart skip around in my ribcage and my throat close up like a steel bear trap. And in all the centuries of coming to the human plain, I had never been more attracted to a human being than the one sitting next to me…here…in this windowless room…

"I wanna kiss you," I blurted, moving out of my chair so fast it clattered back and away. Ichigo looked at me with wide, innocent eyes like a doe and for a second I controlled my demonic instincts enough not to pounce and maul the beautiful creature into sexual oblivion.

For that's precisely what I wanted to do, and I knew he knew it too.

"Uh, sure," Ichigo said, meeting my eyes for an intense gaze.

"I wasn't asking for your permission," I growled, bumping foreheads with the blushing berry.

"Ass hole," he mumbled, waiting for me to go in for the kill.

Oho, I so did.

I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, teasing him into parting his lips slightly, just enough for me to slip my tongue in to explore the warm cavern. I was greedy, greedier than the last time I had kissed him. I didn't stop until he was nearly breathless, his fingers in my hair, his chest pressed to mine across the desk.

The desk had to go.

Forgetting myself, my fingers contorted around the edges of his small wooden desk, splintering it easily under my hands and cracking it nearly in half. It finally gave way, tearing, jagged edges of wood protruding with nails as it clattered noisily to the floor.

Ichigo had pulled back to stare at the damage, then stared at me as if I had just told him his house had burned down.

Fuck.