In which King Aizen makes unwanted advances on his son, Prince Ichigo, who turns to his fairy godmother for help. But when all else fails, he flees to the next kingdom, only to then be walked in on in a compromising position by the Prince Grimmjow, whom he has undeniably fallen in love with. AU, Yaoi, Smut, One-sided AiIchi
Warnings: Yaoi lemon, one-sided incestual intentions, some crossdressing, over 9,000 words before you get to the good stuff.
Sky Blue
A GrimmIchi inspired by Donkeyskin
Written for MaxxieBEYOND.
Suggested Listening:
"Cosmic Love" by Florence and The Machine
"Celestica" by Crystal Castles
"To Die For" by The Birthday Massacre
"No one will believe that anyone so beautiful could be hidden in anything so frightful."
"I hate you."
...
Prince Ichigo was pretty sure that he'd gone completely mental. It really only was natural, after all.
He'd been born nineteen summers ago, during the bright, glowing sunset of the summer solstice itself. It was said that this was the reason he was blessed with the beauty of that very sunset, with bronzed, flawless skin and brilliant orange locks the exact color of the dying sun, like summer incarnate.
His mother had possessed hair that color too, until she disappeared over the horizon just like that sun. The thing was that her death had been just like that sunset, slow and agonizing to watch. Ichigo remembered how healers had been paraded in and out of her chambers, anything to try and postpone her descent into death. It was to no avail, and his beautiful mother had passed away in the middle of winter, and he was left with nothing but the cold moon and his equally cold father, King Aizen.
Nineteen summers and Ichigo had never had a true friend. Yes, there were those servants, those fraccion, who insisted on following him like he had his own center of gravity, but they were so vastly insipid that he couldn't consider them being anything close to a real friend. And you couldn't count Yoruichi, she was more of a substitute maternal figure.
Nineteen summers and not one friend, never mind a lover.
It seemed that the only person, or thing rather, that Ichigo could hold anything resembling an interesting conversation with was Tousen.
See? Completely mental.
Tousen was his father's pampered, royal, cherished, blind donkey that the King loved more than life itself. Ichigo was pretty certain that the only thing that his father had ever loved more than the stupid thing was his mother, and ever since her death, King Aizen doted on the stupid mammal even more, giving it everything a donkey could ever want. It could be said that the thing was more of a son to him than Ichigo was.
So this was how Prince Ichigo found himself in the stables every afternoon, when his father was busy, telling the donkey how much he abhorred him. And then he would watch as it seemed that Tousen would understand him and kick about in his pen, hitting nothing but the wooden paneling, braying like he was on the verge of dying.
"I wish you would die already."
Tousen moved his hideous lips back to reveal buck teeth that were spaced too far apart and kicked out with his back legs at where he thought Ichigo was, but was actually the opposite direction of where the orangette stood.
As you can see, the life of a prince is pretty boring.
"Er...Your Highness?"
Ichigo jumped a foot into the air, his hands immediately clasping behind his back as a kneejerk reaction. Flustered and heat blossoming over his tanned cheekbones, he turned and saw a petite, brunette male with his hair hair pulled into a high knot on top of his head.
"Uh...hi," Ichigo stuttered, looking over from the curious dark eyes that were raking over him. "Keigo."
As if his name had suddenly reminded him of proper protocol, the man dropped to one knee, one clenched fist raised to press against his heart. His eyes stared at the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Your Highness, His Royal Majesty wishes to speak to you in the dining hall," Keigo announced in a slightly quaking voice.
"Does he now...?" Ichigo muttered to himself, taking one look at the stupid donkey who brayed one last time before running headfirst into its pen's wall and falling onto its backside, stunned.
Scowling, the orangette prince spun on his heel without a word and began to stalk towards Las Noches' castle from the stables.
Ichigo's father, King Aizen, had a purist complex. The royal had insisted that everything around him be bleached into submission, leaving the entire landscape and its furnishings white, bleak, dull. It was quite ironic that his own son would possess the brightest hair color known throughout the kingdom, not to mention his beloved deceased wife had the same brilliant locks, and he had loved her and thought her to be the most beautiful sight to behold.
Even the garments of this kingdom were stark white. Ichigo had never warn anything of any other color other than the traditional white tunics with black lining. It was utterly depressing.
The prince turned down another pure white hallway, his sword that was strapped to the belt around his waist slapping against his thigh as he walked. He only managed to find his way throughout the endless maze from nineteen years of practice. The doors to the dining hall were wide open and he stepped through, seeing the long table that was usually filled with his father's advisors was barren, save for the King himself at the head of it.
"Ichigo, I'm very glad you were able to extract yourself from your studies to come and see me," King Aizen said quietly, raising a cup of what Ichigo knew was the most bitter tea known to man to his lips.
Oh yeah...he was supposed to be studying, learning foreign policies and all that for when he was going to take his father's place.
"Uh, yeah. You're welcome," Ichigo surmised was the appropriate thing to say before striding towards the table, the heavy castle doors slowly swinging shut behind him. He took his place at his father's left hand per usual, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at the cup of tea that was placed before him by one of the faceless servants.
"How have you been progressing so far?" King Aizen did not even look at his son but just continued to stare into his cup of tea as he asked this. His tone was pleasant, mild, fake.
"Well, Gin's been teaching me about the other kingdoms and their cultures," Ichigo offered, wondering why his father had called him here. Usually the man acted as if they were distant relatives and when they did talk, he never made any sense, always talking in circles. But there was something decidedly different about him today...Ichigo just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"That's very interesting. Would you say you are are ready to become a monarch, Ichigo?" Aizen eyes flitted from the bitter tea to look at his son's mildly confused face. The face that resembled his mother's so much, and somehow surpassed her beauty with the gentle masculinity that lined every plane of his exquisitely carved features.
"I..." Ichigo paused. Was this some kind of test? "I think so," he decided to say, raising his head to look straight into his father's tepid brown eyes. Well, usually they would be tepid, but today...today they were different, but what was it?
"Then perhaps that day should come sooner than when I pass on to the next world."
Ichigo felt his eyebrows raise higher upon his forehead at that. He couldn't imagine his father, King Aizen, ever willingly relinquishing his throne, even if it was to his own son. He felt the back of his neck tingle with instinct, something wasn't right.
"What do you mean by that?" the prince asked, incredulity seeping into his tone but his brunette father just smiled softly and before Ichigo could even blink, the man stood from his white marble throne and was slowly striding towards the long, narrow window that showcased the setting sun of Las Noches, the only spot of color in the dull landscape.
"Do you remember how beautiful your mother was, Ichigo?" Aizen's calm voice drifted over to the prince, who stood from his chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. He had always been slightly uneasy around his father, but as stated before, today was different. Something had changed.
"I remember."
The king turned away from the window, the dying sunlight filtering around the edges of what could be a beautiful man, if he wasn't so...dull. Ichigo walked around the table to stand closer to his father.
"When your mother was on her deathbed, she called me to her side one night, the very night she died," he said with such apathy that Ichigo had trouble believing that Aizen had ever loved anything at all. "She wanted me to promise her something and I, of course, said that anything she desired I would fulfill."
Aizen's mild brown eyes locked onto Ichigo's own and the slight, ever present smile on his face fell.
"Your mother wanted me to promise her that should I ever remarry that it would only be to someone who exceeded her in both beauty and grace."
Ichigo felt a great lump lodge in his throat, both at the thought of his dying mother and how his father was regarding him, that something in his eyes sparking an unease in the young prince he had never felt before that day. He swallowed heavily, licking his suddenly dry lips.
"And?" His voice was rough, like it hadn't been used for days.
"And I have come to realize something. That there is only one person who fits that description, the only person that is more beautiful than my departed wife."
The prince took a small, subconscious step backwards from the king, from his father.
"And that person, my dear Ichigo, is you."
"And then he said he wanted to marry me! Me! His kid!"
Huffing loudly, Ichigo placed his right foot that had previously been smashing in a cupboard onto the floor, where it retaliated by throbbing painfully.
"You're paying for that."
The orangette prince spun to look at the person whom had spoken, indignation clear on his face.
She was a tall, slender, dark-skinned woman with dark violet hair that was pulled back except for two locks that framed her pretty, amused face. Her golden eyes were sparkling with amusement, despite what Ichigo had just told her.
The thing was, was that Yoruichi was a terrible fairy godmother. She couldn't even do magic properly half of the time.
"Were you even listening? I just told you that my father wants to marry me!"
"Yeah, I heard you," Yoruichi shrugged noncommittally, moving to the stove as the kettle on the back burner began to whistle loudly.
Ichigo felt a vein dangerously tick in his temple, but bit his tongue. The only person who could help him out of this situation was his fairy godmother, so it wouldn't do to curse her into oblivion. Especially when she could very literally do the same to him, even if her magic skills were lacking.
"Well...aren't you going to help me?"
Yoruichi didn't answer at first, pointing one finger at the bowl of sugar that sat on her counter, levitating it into the air. However, when it was halfway to the kettle, it dropped out of the air to shatter on the floor. Swearing under her breath, she waved a hand over the broken pieces, reassembling the porcelain bowl, with obvious cracks visible, before she picked it up off the floor with her hand.
Ichigo sighed loudly, finally making his fairy godmother look up at him with a slight smirk on her face.
"What did you do after the king told you he wished to make you his bride?"
"I just...ran," he answered, frowning at the use of the word 'bride'. His fairy godmother bit her lip before grinning and taking several steps towards Ichigo.
"Well what kind of fairy godmother would I be if I didn't help my little prince?" she cooed, reaching forward to pat Ichigo on the head like he was a small child or some kind of house pet. He swatted her hands away like he would a fly but she just ducked out of the way, chuckling.
Worst. Fairy. Godmother. Ever.
"Okay, so what are you going to do? Are you going to make some sort of potion to make him forget?" Ichigo asked, leading Yoruichi to laugh at his expense.
"And how, Ichigo, would you suggest I slip this potion into His Royal Majesty's tea?"
The orangette frowned, now seeing the fault in his logic.
"I'm afraid I can't use my magic to fix this, godson," Yoruichi said, a little sorrow seeping into her voice for the first time since Ichigo had shown up on her doorstep, nearly in hysterics.
"So then what are we going to do?" the prince asked dejectedly, tugging at the edge of his white tunic.
"Hmm...well, ask him for something he would be hesitant to give, or something that would be impossible for him to do so," Yoruichi laid a finger upon her lips in a classic thinking pose.
"Like what?" Ichigo muttered, already feeling like there was nothing that King Aizen wouldn't be able to procure.
"Well, I hear that the kingdom's tailor is particularly untalented with dye...and lace."
Ichigo couldn't believe he was doing this...especially with all of these people here, watching and listening as he made these demands. Honestly, you would think they would show some sort of expression when their kind announced he wanted to marry his own flesh and blood, his own son.
But no, they were as vapid as ever.
"Please say that again, Ichigo," Aizen commanded from his royal throne, looking down at his son from several meters in the air while the orangette was on bended knee by his feet.
Ichigo swallowed past the lump in his throat. He still didn't want to believe that it had come to this, that his own father wanted to marry him, that he was now asking for these things. He took a deep breath and recited the line that he had practiced for nearly a day now, the one Yoruichi had told him to say.
"I will consent to be married to you, father, if I could have undergarments the colors of the sun, the moon, and the sky appropriate for a wedding night."
Silence. You could have heard a pin drop in the great room, not even Aizen's fingers drumming ever so softly on the arm of his throne made a sound.
Finally, after several very long moments, the king spoke in his placid, ever-pleasant voice.
"I find your demands reasonable, my prince. They will be ready by noon tomorrow."
There was a sudden choking sound over to Ichigo's left and he cornered his eyes to see the kingdom's tailor, Uryuu Ishida, looking very put out and possibly on the verge of an epileptic fit. He smirked to himself.
There was no way that this plan wouldn't work.
But still, it didn't escape his notice how his father had called him my prince. Just the memory of it was enough to send shivers down his spine.
"Are they to your liking, Prince Ichigo?" Aizen's soft voice asked as the former stared unblinkingly in disbelief at the garments laid out before him. He had never thought that the tailor could have possibly made even one of these outfits by today, but there they were.
Though Ichigo had never had an eye for fashion or clothes or anything even remotely close to that, being a swordsman at heart he wasn't the type to notice the beauty of garments, but even he had to admit that the tailor had done nothing short of a spectacular job.
The first was a matching set of a camisole and undergarments that looked more fit for a female than for him, but they were the color of the sun, just like he had asked, with burnt sienna lace and encrusted rubies and imperial topaz woven into the delicate fabric.
The one after that was a similar set, but decidedly a tad more masculine, with briefs made out of crystalline, moonlight satin lined in the most fragile light gray lace and a translucent, diaphanous top of the same fabric with sleeves that would fall over his hands were he to wear it.
But the last...that was his favorite, though he never would admit it. He had always had a thing for this particular shade of blue, it reminded him of one of the only spots of color in the otherwise drab landscape of Las Noches, the sky.
The underwear could only be described as panties, considering the fact they were made out of transparent light blue lace and looked far too small for him. There were diamonds and sapphires that sparkled at him like the jewels they were, and there were white ruffles along the trim that looked like the clouds in a perfect blue sky. The top resembled a woman's corset, with aquamarine ribbons laced through the fabric in the back that would be sure to let his tanned skin peep through should he ever don it. There were small bows and those same white ruffles embroidered on the trim, and upon closer inspection, there was a matching choker of the same perfect heaven's sky shade of blue, with a cameo fastened on the front.
It was a shame he would never wear it, Ichigo couldn't deny that he knew he would look stunning in that outfit.
"I will take your silence for a yes," Aizen chuckled dryly and Ichigo found that the sound created a horrible sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He only had one last resort, the request that surely his father would not be able to fulfill.
"Yeah, I like them," Ichigo shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I just have ione more request."
"Oh? And what would that be?" Was it just him or did Aizen's smile look more pronounced than usual?
"I want the hide of the donkey, Tousen."
His father's smile faltered and then turned into a frown. For a second, Ichigo was scared for his life. The only other time he had seen his father frown was the night his mother died.
"Tousen is my beloved pet, Ichigo. Surely you can think of something else," he insisted mildly, but with something akin to a dangerous spark in his brown eyes, but muffled.
"Please?" Ichigo's lower lip jutted out and he turned the full, devastating effect of his molten honey-hershey eyes on his father, just like Yoruichi had told him to. And the man could not resist, for the boy looked far better with that expression on his face than his mother ever had.
"It will be done."
Startled and disappointed, Ichigo watched as the king left the room, his long white overcoat flowing out behind him.
It wasn't even six hours later, right when the sun was setting, the the hide of the old, blind donkey Tousen was delivered to Ichigo's quarters by Aizen himself, unattended by any of usual advisors.
The hide was unceremoniously dumped upon Ichigo's bed by the king, who automatically stalked forward and grabbed his son by the wrist before the boy could say or do anything. There was a coldness to Aizen's eyes that he hadn't ever witnessed before, but it suited the man much more than the usual vacant expression he usually wore.
"Tousen's hide is now yours to wear. Tomorrow we will begin wedding preparations, and soon you will be Queen Ichigo," his father stated, void of any emotion as usual, but still managing to chill the prince to the bone all the same. He didn't even have anything to say about his becoming a 'queen'.
With a quick snap of his wrist, Aizen threw Ichigo back an inch or two, making him stumble backwards. The poor, confused orangette stared after his father as he stalked out of the room. He had never seen him act that way before, not once.
"Damn it," Ichigo swore under his breath, going to sit at the edge of the bed, where the donkey hide was taking up a good portion of the rest of the luxe duvet. It smelled terrible, like rotting flesh, which technically it was.
"No luck, I see."
His head snapped up to look at the narrow, long window of his bedroom to see none other than Yoruichi floating in mid-air right outside. Of course she could levitate herself a hundred feet in the air when she could barely summon a teacup.
"You told me this would work!" Ichigo yelled angrily, pointing a finger at his fairy godmother who just huffed in indignation.
"I didn't think he was actually going to kill the thing. He must really want you," she said, stepping onto the ledge of the window. Ichigo shivered.
"You're not helping," he said bitterly, looking over to his dresser to see the lacy undergarments laid out on top carelessly, still where he had thrown them earlier. He heard Yoruichi sigh and she stepped down into his room and it was then he noticed that she was carrying a small wooden chest in her hands.
"There's really only one way to escape from your father, godson, and that's to leave the kingdom altogether."
By daybreak, Ichigo had already traveled to the border of the next kingdom. Yoruichi had gone with him as far as the castle's gate, which she had somehow managed to open with a rather impressive spell.
Sometimes she really baffled him.
Before they had left, she had told him to wear Tousen's hide and he at first had protested, until his godmother had explained that his bright orange hair was bound to get him recognized and that his beauty would only cause troubles for him along the way. Bristling at being called 'beautiful' like he was a woman, he had wrapped the donkey's skin around himself and Yoruichi had smeared dirt on his face. With his body covered by foul-smelling donkey hide, his features marred by dark brown earth, and his sunset hair hidden from view under the hood of the hide, he was unrecognizable.
It wasn't pleasant, walking around feeling dirty and smelling to high heaven, but he knew it was the only way he could disguise himself well enough to get to the next kingdom. Besides, it seemed as if any potential threats in the villages and woods wanted to leave him alone, fearing that his ugliness may rub off of on them. Ichigo could care less and was grateful that people now wanted to leave him alone.
He almost felt a little bad for Tousen, killed just so that he could wear him like a cloak. Almost.
Ichigo remembered from his lessons with Gin that the kingdom that bordered Las Noches to the south was the kingdom of Pantera, but beyond that, he could really remember much else. He knew the two monarchs, the king and queen, were both still alive, and they had two children, one boy and one girl. And he remembered that the kingdom was known for producing some of the toughest warriors, and that his father was not fond of Pantera was all he could recall on the subject.
Yoruichi had put his most beloved possessions in the wooden chest he now carried in his arms. A necklace that had been his mother's and a childhood portrait of his small family, back when his father had only been distant, not completely insane and perverted. There were also some other things in there, but he hadn't checked yet.
What would have been useful would be if his fairy godmother had had the sense to pack him something to eat, or even a canteen so that he could drink from the nearby river. Ichigo was now very hungry, thirty, and tired, but he couldn't stop now. Now that he in the kingdom of Pantera, he knew he was safe.
Ichigo traveled further into the kingdom throughout the day. The closer he got to the epicenter, the denser the population and the smaller the dwellings, but he couldn't find anyone that was willing to hire him.
He knew he needed to find work, and soon. Otherwise he would surely starve to death, not to mention he didn't relish the idea of sleeping outside. The prince went from place to place, from baker to blacksmith to stable owner, but he didn't even have the chance to plead for a job, doing anything, whatever they wanted, before they shooed him away. Some even yelled and kicked at him, claiming he was ruining their reputation just be even talking to them. Ichigo held his tongue, however hard it was. It wouldn't do to draw unneeded attention to himself. But he had never known the world could be so cruel, and just because his appearance was less than satisfactory.
The prince decided he should probably get used to it.
By sunset he had reached the center of the kingdom, where the castle itself sat atop a small mountain, overlooking everything in the entire land. It took him an hour just to hike up to the large gate, where two guards stood at the sentry, looking down on him as he approached. His legs were already shaking from dehydration and exhaustion and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that this was his last chance.
Surprisingly, they didn't question him as he passed through into the courtyard. Ichigo wondered if the security was just particularly lax or if they somehow knew he wasn't a threat...
Looking up at the castle, he almost smiled. It was much different from the one in Las Noches with its mind-numbingly whitewashed walls and smooth, textureless architecture. It was made of ivory bricks, and there were many different spindly towers and windows with blue shutters, some even open. Flags adorned the points of the towers and they were all different colors and shapes, and ivy crawled up all sides of the beautiful building like a lover's embrace. This was a castle.
"'ey, what tha hell are ya doing out here?"
Jumping at the sudden, rough voice, Ichigo turned to see a man striding towards him and he felt his eyes widening. The guy must have been over six feet tall and he was positively massive, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders and as he got closer, the orangette could see that he wore an eyepatch and had one long scar trailing over the left side of his face.
"I-uh," Ichigo sputtered, clutching the donkey hide closer to his body out of sheer nerves.
"Come on boy, spit it out," the man told him with almost a hint of amusement and even though the prince was slightly scared for his life, he also recognized that this man was the nicest person he had met that day.
"I need to find work," Ichigo blurted, digging his fingers into the wooden chest in his hands. He was desperate now, he didn't know if he could make it to the next kingdom without any water or food. "No one else seems to want to hire me," he muttered bitterly.
"I see," the man grinned manically for a second before reaching out to grip Ichigo by his cloak of donkey skin. "Yer lucky they could always use an extra hand in the kitchen," he said, tugging Ichigo along harshly, making the prince stumble a bit.
"Now wha's yer name, kid?" the massive, scarred man asked, walking Ichigo around the side of the castle.
"It's...uhh, um," Ichigo mentally cursed himself for not having thought of a name to give to people, but to be fair he hadn't ever gotten this far. But it wasn't like he could just tell people he just happened to have the same name as the prince of Las Noches.
"I get it," the man interrupted his stuttering, suddenly stopping by a door on the side of the castle and rapping on it thrice. "You can call me Kenpachi and you'll be..."
Kenpachi paused and looked over Ichigo, every part of his body covered with Tousen's hide except for his dirt-masked face.
"You'll be Donkeyskin."
Ichigo found castle life to be surprisingly entertaining. Las Noches had been a dull place, but this castle was far from that. The people there were far less reserved and quiet than those of the kingdom where Ichigo had spent his entire life. He hadn't known that there was such...color in the world. Here his hair color wasn't so strange, not that it mattered anyway since he constantly kept it covered with his donkey hide cloak. He hadn't known because he had been practically confined to the Las Noches' castle ground his entire life. He knew next to nothing about other cultures or even their royal families, and he had left just as he was beginning to learn some of it from Gin.
He would just have to learn from experience, he supposed.
People treated him much the same as they had in the villages and inner city. Most ignored him, but others mocked his appearance, telling him what a filthy creature was. Ichigo wasn't used to the treatment, but he quickly got over it. Anything was better than going back home...to his father. And though he ached to throw off the hide and whip out the sword he kept hidden underneath, he said nothing and continued doing his duties.
The night when he had arrived at the castle, Kenpachi had taken him to the kitchens, where the head chef asked if he had any cooking skills. Ichigo had of course had to say no, so he was put on dishwashing duty. Luckily there were enough dirty dishes in the place that it kept him busy from dusk 'till dawn. He knew that he wouldn't want to stay there forever, but this would let him earn enough money to allow him to move onto another kingdom soon. As far away from Las Noches as possible.
Ichigo had been given small quarters in the east wing which he shared with a small, dark-haired boy named Hanatorou, who had become something of a friend to him. Hana was the only one who hadn't automatically flinched at the sight of him in the donkey hide. But he still had to hide who he really was, so he bathed in secret. A fruitless venture, really, considering afterwards he would just put on the donkeyskin yet again.
Ever since he had been given the name by Kenpachi, it had stuck. Everyone in the castle that knew of him knew him by the name Donkeyskin.
Despite the constant jeers from other servants in the castle, Ichigo thought he led a pleasant enough life. He just only wished he could do something other than the dishes. His hands twitched at the thought of drawing his sword, but you couldn't very well just do that in the castle kitchens, could you?
Days passed into weeks and soon an entire month had passed by, and Ichigo's very first day off came upon him. It was just a shame that he had nothing to do except wander about the castle aimlessly. It wasn't as if he could even explore the place, considering many of the wings were forbidden for him to enter, being a lowly servant.
This led Ichigo to walk outside after a while, enjoying the bright sun and blue sky of the warm summer day. He would surely soon begin to sweat under the donkey hide, but it had been far too long since he had been outside, free to roam wherever he pleased (for the most part.)
Making sure his hair was tucked away neatly under the hood of his cloak, Ichigo walked down the pathway that would lead to the stables and the training grounds. It astounded him that the royal family allowed their soldiers to train in the same place they lived. But maybe this was the reason that the kingdom was known for producing tough warriors.
There were several groups of foot soldiers on the training grounds, some clustered together practicing fencing techniques and others on the edges practicing their archery. Ichigo felt a deep, burning ache and he reached a hand under his donkeyskin cloak to feel the blade of his trusted sword. Oh, how he wanted to use it...
As he approached the training grounds, it seemed that the crowd in the middle was slowly dispersing to the sides. Soldiers stopped what they were doing, respectively putting down their swords and bows and arrows. Ichigo cocked a brow, wondering what was going on that would make them all stop.
His eyes scanned over the center of the training grounds, where two people were still standing, having not moved with the rest of the soldiers. The former prince picked up his pace, coming to a stop right behind the line of soldiers to peek through the gaps in their bodies.
There were two men standing across from each other, blades drawn. One was impossibly tall, with a kind of scythe-like weapon that Ichigo had never seen before. His long black hair hung silkily and it looked like from where Ichigo was standing that the man had an eyepatch similar to Kenpachi's.
His gaze drifted over to where the other was twirling his sword about carelessly, but with all the finesse of a practiced swordsman. Ichigo felt his eyes widen at the sight.
And here he had thought that the sky was a beautiful shade of blue.
The man was tall, easily clearing six feet and then some, with corded muscle wrapped around his limbs and chest, which was left bare by his open tunic. Ichigo couldn't clearly make out what exactly his face looked like considering the distance between them, but he could see a strong chin and straight nose, along with plush-looking lips stretched into a slightly manic grin.
And above all he could see a shock of tousled, ultramarine hair, strands falling onto his forehead and trailing down the nape of his neck. If he weren't positive that such things were impossible, Ichigo would have sworn that his eyes had turned heart-shaped and were nearly popping out of their sockets.
Even from far away, the man was positively beautiful.
As if they done this many times before, the two men fell into fighting stances, their blades positioned in front of them. Within seconds, they both moved so fast they blurred with speed and there was a sound of metal clashing together as the sword and the scythe met.
Ichigo watched as they battled it out, the taller, dark-haired man slowly losing to his blunette sparring partner. When the latter gave a diagonal, shallow slice across the other's chest, causing him to fall back, it was clear who had won. Ichigo had to admit he was impressed with the man's skill, but he had noticed that his blocking techniques were a little lacking. It seemed like he always preferred to be on the offensive.
The blunette spat to the side where Ichigo was standing and raised his eyes to meet his inadvertently. The former prince could have sworn that all of his breath was stolen from him as he looked into eyes the purest shade of blue he had ever seen. It was like a jeweler had taken sapphires and mixed them with the stars and then sewn them into the man's face.
A thin, sharp eyebrow rose as Ichigo did not look away, but held the gaze of the blue-haired man.
"Impressed?" he called out in a husky, baritone voice that was rough and low in all the right ways. Ichigo knew when he was being challenged.
"Your blocking needs work," he said levelly, not backing down. The blunette's grin faded from his face, brow furrowing at the insult. Frowns suited him just as well as manic grins, Ichigo noticed.
"That a fact?" he asked, spinning his sword once before sheathing it in its scabbard and taking a step towards him.
Ichigo was about to respond, when all of a sudden a wailing noise cut him off. Startled, he turned his head to see a small, green thing plummeting towards the center of the training grounds at unimaginable speeds.
"Grimmyyyyyy!" the thing called out as it positively rocketed off of the ground and launched itself at the blunette's legs. The man grunted and stumbled back, but raised a hand to place it on top of the thing's head.
Ichigo's eyes were wide as he looked over what was attached to the man's legs, taking in the long sea-foam hair and ornate green dress. If he wasn't mistaken, this had to be Neliel, Princess Neliel. He always heard the kitchen maids going on and on about how adorable the little green-haired princess was, and how her blue-haired brother, the prince Grimmjow, was beyond gorgeous.
Everything clicked into place in Ichigo's mind and before he knew it, he was backing away, turning and running for the castle. Though he could've sworn he heard someone call out a "Wait!"
He had just been insolent to the prince himself. Surely he would be fired now. Then the rest of the kitchen staff could rejoice as they wouldn't have to look at his hideous appearance anymore, he thought bitterly before opening the door and entering the castle once more.
Every day for a week after that, Ichigo worried that he would be seized by the castle guards and thrown out of the place for his insubordination. But it seemed his paranoia was for naught, because no one even mentioned it to him.
He was on his way to his quarters, having just been released for the afternoon from his duties washing dishes. Since he had nothing else to do, he might as well just go take a well-deserved nap. The wake up calls at four in the morning didn't suit him well.
The former prince walked at a slow pace down the east wing hallway, wondering if the cook was going to make anything other than beef stew for dinner that night.
"'ey ugly, shouldn't ya be washin' dishes?"
Stopping in his tracks, because Ichigo knew that whenever someone used the word 'ugly' around there, it was always in reference to him. He turned his head to see three of the castle's guards leaning against the marble pillars that lined the hallway. He didn't recognize them, they were so many guards they just started to blend into one another after a while.
Ignoring the taunt, Ichigo started walking again, past the guards.
"Hey, I asked you a question!" the same guard yelled after him. Frowning, the former prince heard the loud, booted footsteps of the guards approaching him from behind.
When a hand grabbed for his wrist, Ichigo spun on his heel and drove his right elbow into the guard's face, crushing his nose on impact. The guard fell to the ground, clutching his face and moaning in agony as blood seeped through his fingers.
With a cry of outrage, the other two drew their daggers from their belts, not holding a high enough ranking to carry a sword. Ichigo narrowed his eyes at them, patting his cloak to feel the hilt of his sword underneath it, but he couldn't pull it out and use it without killing them.
They advanced on him, one of their faces twisting into a cruel sneer.
"Tch, you're so ugly, no one would even miss you if I threw you out of the window right over there," he said, chuckling dryly.
Well, better them than him, Ichigo thought, reaching a hand under his donkey hide cloak to grasp at the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it and defend himself.
"At ease, men," a low, but commanding voice said from somewhere behind the guards. Instantly, both of their eyes widened and they looked behind them to confirm their suspicions.
Standing there, looking as irreverent and over-sexed as ever was the prince of Pantera himself, Grimmjow.
"Your Highness!" they both cried simultaneously, dropping to their knees. The blunette looked down at them with a kind of bored disgust before bending down to look them in the eyes. Ichigo could swear he saw the two formerly overconfident bastards shaking in their boots.
"Please forgive us, but he attacked one of our men! We were just defending ourselves!" one of them pleaded, his hands clasping together.
Ichigo's jaw dropped in indignation.
"Right, three of you and one of him, and he attacked you," the prince sneered down at them while they cowered. Obviously the monarch instilled a healthy amount of fear into his subjects.
"Get out, and take yer idiot friend with ya before I throw ya all out the damn window."
"Y-yes, Your Highness!" They scampered about, picking up the now unconscious castle guard and nearly running out of the hallway. Ichigo watched them go before he turned back to the blue-haired royal, still a little shocked by what had happened.
"Don't pay them any mind. They don't have half a brain between the three of 'em," the prince said, his smirk dissolving into something like an amiable grin, his eyes less like hard, cold sapphires and more like warm blue ocean water. Ichigo found he loved that look, but he was at a loss of what to say, what to do.
"They didn't get ya anywhere, did they?"
Ichigo just shook his head.
"Yer the one who told me my blocking needs work," the prince smiled, taking a few steps closer to Ichigo, so close now that the orangette could smell the fresh, crisp scent of autumn and the rain clinging to the man.
Why was he being nice to him? Even those that were kind enough not to comment on his horrifying appearance or give him dirty looks didn't even speak to him. Well, there was Hanatorou, but he was too nice to be human and from what he had seen Prince Grimmjow was far from a benevolent spirit.
So, why?
"Of course ya go all quiet on me now," the prince shook his head, turning on his heel to walk away. "Typical."
Ichigo bit his lip as he watched the blunette start to walk away from him, and somehow he couldn't stand it, couldn't bear it. It made his chest ache and his eyes burn.
"Your defense suffers because you're always focused on attacking. That's going to get you killed one day," Ichigo said quietly, surprising even himself. But apparently, the fact that he had said anything pleased the blunette royal who turned to look over his shoulder with a playful, slightly sadistic smile.
"Ya care to put that to the test?" he asked in that delightfully rumbling voice of his. Ichigo felt his heart stutter a little bit, but he wasn't really sure as to why. Was the prince asking him if he wanted to spar?
Ichigo felt for the first time since had arrived in Pantera a smile spread across his face. He ached to draw his sword again. He simply nodded and fell into step with the other prince, though it may have been completely disrespectful, but he didn't seem to mind.
"Wha's yer name?" the blunette asked him as they walked together down the hallway. Ichigo hesitated, his name on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said, but he swallowed it down heavily.
"You can call me Donkeyskin," he answered, his voice a tad rough. It had been a little while since he had spoken even this much with someone.
"Donkeyskin, eh?" the prince of Pantera shot Ichigo a strange look, a disbelieving one, but Ichigo didn't say anything. "Fine, I'll call you Donkeyskin, but then you have to call me Grimmjow."
Ichigo raised an eyebrow at that.
"Look, I hate it when people use titles with my name. It's just Grimmjow, understand?"
It was a shame that Grimmjow would never knew just how much he understood, Ichigo thought as they exited the castle together.
The weeks following their first spar, in which Ichigo had taken Grimmjow by surprise by drawing his sword from under his donkey hide cloak and attacked him almost immediately, proving his point when the prince's blade ended up against his own throat. However, despite being angry at being ambushed like that, Grimmjow had smiled in true delight and declared Ichigo to be 'a real keeper'. The memory of it still made the orangette flush with pleasure.
Ah yes, that was the problem that poor Ichigo was facing now, after the past few weeks.
After that first day, he and Grimmjow had sparred every day since, the royal excusing him from his dishwashing duties, without any complaints from the other kitchen servants of course. Though Ichigo had to turn a deaf ear to the whispers about him and the outright name-calling and jeers. But still, he couldn't help but think that some of them might have basis in reality. Like how Grimmjow was just taking pity upon him because he was such a repulsive-looking creature.
He would walk beside the prince and see the disgusted looks he would get and the muttered curses on him for ever soiling their monarch's air by standing with fifty feet of them. Grimmjow would manage to shut them up with a fierce glare, but it only made Ichigo feel worse. Some days he wanted to tear off the wretched donkey hide and wash his face free of the dirt smudged on there and show everyone that he was not who they thought he was.
But he didn't. He couldn't, because the news would spread across the border, to the next kingdom, to Las Noches, to the castle, to his father.
It was depressing for Ichigo to realize this, that he could never ever show his true self to anyone in this kingdom because of that fact. That he could never truly be himself with the man he had fallen in love with.
He didn't know exactly how or when it happened. Maybe when Grimmjow's sword had been pressed to his throat, or maybe when Grimmjow sent a vicious glare to anyone that dared to speak ill of him. But if he were a betting man, he would put all of his money on the very first time he had locked eyes with Grimmjow, when those aquamarine, soul-splitting eyes didn't look at him with disgust or pity, but interest, like he was a human being.
Four weeks and two days later it was a feast day, meaning that the food had all been prepared the day previous and Ichigo's assistance wouldn't be needed until tomorrow, after the last person had stumbled into bed. Then he would nearly suffocate under a mountain of dirty dishes.
Now the thing was, was that he was given the day off to celebrate the feast with the other inhabitants of the castle. However, Ichigo had decided he would much rather stay in his quarters for the evening and enjoy a much-needed good night's sleep. Besides, it wasn't as if there was anything for him at the feast except more cruel taunts and maybe a black eye if someone had too much to drink.
So stay in his quarters he would.
However as soon as he laid his head on his pillow, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. The noise from the dining hall drifted up and was far too loud to allow him any rest.
Sighing, he sat up and looked around his bedroom, seeing Hanatorou's empty bed beside him, the sink and mirror, and the dresser which had the two bottom drawers reserved for him. Looking around him, almost as if he wouldn't be able to tell someone else was in his very small room, he moved his hand to push back the hood of the donkey hide cloak, revealing his bright, orange hair.
It was longer now, reaching down to barely brush against his shoulders, and was getting a bit of a nuisance to hide, but he couldn't very well ask anyone to cut it for him.
Maybe if the circumstances were different, Grimmjow would know that he had orange hair and maybe the other prince would admire it, just as Ichigo admired Grimmjow's teal locks.
But it was of no use to think about it now, because the prince of Pantera would never see him in that light. Never.
An idea occurred to Ichigo and he nearly smiled as he slipped his hands under the cloak and threw it off of him, exposing his bare chest under the donkey hide and the thin pair of leggings that he wore underneath. He always felt so free without the horrible, repulsive thing on him.
Standing from his bed, Ichigo made his way over to the sink and the small, dusty mirror above it. In that mirror he could see his reflection, marred by the dirt he smeared onto there everyday. It seemed that the people in the castle thought this was because he wanted to hide his ugliness. Hah.
He dipped his hands into the already waiting water, cupping them together and bringing the cold liquid to his face, letting the water run in trickles down his neck and shoulders as he scrubbed at his face. He had almost forgotten what it looked like underneath the grime. He washed it all away, bringing forth the face that had caused his own father to want to marry him.
He smiled again at his reflection, enjoying the purely superficial feeling of knowing that he wasn't hideous, that he was considered beautiful. His skin hadn't lost any of that bronzed luster since he had started caking his face with dirt, a miracle in itself.
Perhaps it was the months of concealing himself in ugliness that made Ichigo greedy for more beauty or perhaps it was something else, some sort of instinct, that made him do what he did next.
Feeling his heart thrum in anticipation, Ichigo approached his dresser, nearly ripping the bottom drawer out of the thing in his haste. He threw aside the various pairs of leggings he kept in there until his hand brushed against something hard and smooth. Grasping it in his hands, he brought the small wooden chest out of the drawer, flipping it open to reveal its contents.
Just as they were the day he had left Las Noches, his mother's necklace and the family portrait was still laying there, over a small bundle of fabrics. Reaching in almost hesitantly, Ichigo grabbed the fabric the color of the purest blue sky and lifted it out of the chest. It was the panties and matching corset he had received just hours before he had fled from his father.
They were just as beautiful as he remembered. Sapphire and diamonds inlaid in the thin, delicate light blue lace, aquamarine ribbons and bows and virgin white ruffles lining it all, making the outfit look like heaven itself.
He had never worn any of the garments he had requested his father have mine, for not only would it be a little strange for poor little Hanatorou to see but he had never really thought of them. His thoughts had almost been completely consumed by one royally blue prince.
A frown marring his features for a brief second at the thought of the man for whom his love would never be reciprocated, Ichigo stood from his place kneeling on the floor. His hands almost subconsciously went to the button of his leggings, undoing them so that he could easily slide them down his long, toned legs. They hit the floor without a sound and he stepped out of them, now completely nude.
The first item he slid on were the panties that came to rest dangerously on the cusp of his backside, flesh spilling out from the bottom lining of ruffles as they didn't cover him all the way. He found that he loved the way the things were so tight on him, almost fondling his male member, cradling it against his body.
He untied the ribbons on the corset as fast as he could, taking care not to rip the delicate thing. Then he slid his arms through the thin straps, reaching back to hook the several clasps on the back. Ichigo then went about tying the ribbons behind him as tight as he could stand, enjoying the way it sucked in his waist, creating an enticing curve leading to his rear.
Once he was done tying the last bit of ribbon into what he hoped was a perfect, full bow, he leaned over and snatched the matching cameo choker from the chest. The orangette fastened that around his neck as well and there was something about the tight confines of all three things that made him feel delicious.
Ichigo stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way the corset smoothed him out in all the right places. If it weren't for the apparent lack of breasts, he might be able to pass for a woman.
He wished Grimmjow could see him like this.
At the thought of the devilishly handsome, heartbreaking man that Ichigo had lost his entire heart to, he moaned aloud. Both from the sudden ache in his chest and the ache now in his groin. He wouldn't deny it, now that he had the outfit on he was too turned on to be true. And here, in the privacy of this room, he didn't have to feel emasculated by that fact.
Almost in a daze, Ichigo stumbled over to his bed, collapsing onto the uncomfortable mattress on his back. He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as he slid one of his hands up his chest, feeling his heated skin underneath the thin fabric. Then he cupped himself through the lace of the panties, relishing in the delicious feeling. It had been a long while since he had done this, but oh how he wished...
How he wished that Grimmjow would-
"'ey, Donkeyskin!" The door flew open. "I'm fucking bored, let's...let's..."
Mortified honey-hershey eyes met stunned wild, aquamarine ones from across the room. Ichigo was too shocked and embarrassed to do anything, not even move his hands, as the prince of Pantera, Grimmjow, stood not ten feet away from him.
"D-donkeyskin?" Grimmjow gasped, the heavy, wooden door shutting closed behind him as he let go of it. Ichigo's heart thumped a million miles a minute as he struggled to think of something to say, something to do.
"I-I think you have the w-wrong room," he stuttered out, hoping that Grimmjow would think he had just gone into the wrong room to find some orange-haired kid dressed in panties and a corset on the verge of pleasuring himself.
Grimmjow's shocked look receded a bit and he lifted one thin, sharp eyebrow.
"Bullshit."
"Wha..?"
"That's bullshit, I know that's you Donkeyskin," Grimmjow nearly whispered, his feet subconsciously moving him towards the bed where Ichigo lay, as if he were under some sort of spell.
Ichigo didn't say anything, didn't move a muscle as Grimmjow came to stand right over him, looking as sinfully pretty as the day he had first seen him. No, actually, he looked better, especially with the warmth swirling in those cerulean depths as his eyes simultaneously darkened and brightened with what looked like desire.
"Your eyes are the same," Grimmjow said softly, staring straight into Ichigo's eyes as he spoke. "I would recognize those eyes anywhere..." he trailed off, looking like he wasn't present for a few seconds.
Ichigo still couldn't really say anything, but he could feel himself steadily growing underneath his hand that he still hadn't moved. What a sight he must be, flushed with arousal and touching himself through panties that were now close to being soaked with his juices.
What was going on? Why wasn't Grimmjow leaving? Or banishing him from the castle for acting such depraved sexual fantasies?
"Why?" Grimmjow asked, and it was then that Ichigo noticed that he was wearing his ivory and gold ceremonial tunic and hosiery for the feast and how well those hose looked on those muscular legs. In those colors, the man looked like an angel sent straight from heaven. An angel that led him to temptation, instead of from it.
Ichigo didn't have to ask him to know what he meant.
"Long story," he answered breathlessly.
What would happen now?
"I have time," Grimmjow spoke gently, but Ichigo shook his head.
"No, you don't," he said, finally moving his hand from his hardened member to take Grimmjow's into his own, tugging it forward until it took the place of where his had been. Ichigo had to bite down on his lips to stifle his moan as Grimmjow softly squeezed. "We don't have time to talk," he insisted.
He knew he was being incredibly forward, wanton even, but at this point he was finally being presented with the opportunity to be with the man he loved, and he wasn't going to pass that up. No way in hell.
Grimmjow lips twitched into an all too familiar smirk and he leaned forward until one of his knees sank into the mattress on Ichigo's right side, allowing the other prince to hover over him. He removed his hand from Ichigo's member, causing the orangette to whine softly making him chuckle before he placed that hand by Ichigo's opposite shoulder so that he could be directly over the other male.
"Talk later," he insisted before bowing forward quickly to capture Ichigo's lips with his own. Both of them moaned at the contact and Ichigo brought his hands up to grasp at the sides of Grimmjow's face, sliding his fingers into the silky, blue locks.
After so long of dreaming of this, Ichigo felt like he was biting into a ripe fruit after going years without food, like sipping crystal cold water when he was dying of thirst. He wanted this, needed this, and felt like he might die if Grimmjow were to ever pull away.
A tongue flicked out to lap at his pillowy lips and Ichigo opened his mouth automatically, groaning at then sensation as Grimmjow's pink muscle danced with his own, exploring every inch of his wet orifice. The prince then lowered himself so that he lay on top of Ichigo completely, their groins melding against each other causing him to hiss at the contact. Ichigo spread his legs and wrapped them around the bigger man's waist.
Grimmjow's hands found their way between their bodies, sliding against the lace and satin that covered Ichigo's body. The feeling was satiating and burning at the same time, it relieved Ichigo's arousal and yet made him want more, so much more.
This is what he'd been wanting for his entire life, it just took him until he'd lost everything he thought he cared about for him to realize it.
Grimmjow's lips left his but before he could protest, they were trailing down his sensitive jawline and then down to his neck, where teeth clamped onto his pulse point. He gave a slight yelp at the sudden, small pain but then a tongue was laving over it, soothing the abused flesh.
Ichigo ran his hands down Grimmjow's back, feeling the decadence of the fabrics that made up his tunic. He didn't stop until his hands were over the curve of Grimmjow's backside which is where he clenched the flesh there suddenly, causing the man on top of him to stiffen and pull back a bit.
Oh, yes, revenge was sweet. Almost as sweet as Grimmjow's lips when they found their way back to his. The man tasted like mint and the rain with all the crispness of autumn air. One taste and Ichigo was addicted with all the fervor of a demented alcoholic. And he didn't care at all.
Ichigo grabbed at the hem of Grimmjow's tunic, tugging harshly upwards until the other man got the idea and helped him out, pulling the thing over his head to land in a heap on the floor. The resulting sight left Ichigo speechless, he'd never seen the prince of Pantera shirtless before, despite all their sparring sessions.
It was better than it could have ever been in his dreams. Rippling muscles clung to Grimmjow's chest and arms, but not too much, only just enough to send Ichigo over the edge. And they were all covered in the finest of light tawny skins, smooth and flawless.
He leaned forward as Grimmjow sat back on his heels to wantonly lick a trail up from between the blunette's pectorals to the base of his neck, trailing kisses on the way back down. He curled his fingers into the waistband of Grimmjow's leggings and looking down he could see they did very little to conceal the impressive bulge in between the man's powerful legs.
Gods, the man was like art in human form.
But suddenly Grimmjow gripped Ichigo's wrists, pulling his hands away from they had been on the verge of delving into the hosiery.
"Wha-" Ichigo had began to ask what was wrong but he was silenced with a kiss, a deep one filled with all the burning passion of the sun. It left him panting a little as Grimmjow finally pulled away.
"You first," the blunette husked, sliding back a little on the small bed so that Ichigo was splayed before him, legs still spread open and the front of those blue lace panties now completely soaked with his precome. His erection was straining against the fabric and it rubbed him in all the right places, and if Grimmjow didn't take them off now, he was going to come right then and there.
Luckily he didn't have to voice his concerns because Grimmjow was already bending over, his face coming dangerously close to Ichigo's lace-covered member. The orangette almost lost it when the other man took the top of panties, just under his right hipbone, into his teeth and gently began to pull down. Letting out a small whimper that was decidedly unmasculine, Ichigo watched as his erection was revealed, bobbing forth from its confines, but Grimmjow purposefully avoided contact with it, continuing to slide the lacy things down his long legs until they were completely off, thrown into the same corner as the tunic.
Ichigo, wanting to get to the good part already, reached behind himself and fumbled for the ribbons so that he could take off his corset but for the second time that night, hands on his wrists stopped him.
"Leave it on," Grimmjow whispered in his ear, sending shivers that wrapped around Ichigo's spine and made him shudder in delight. He let go of the ribbons, reaching out for Grimmjow yet again.
Their lips collided once more and this one was almost desperate as they clutched onto each other, fingers melding into tanned, slick flesh. Ichigo groaned as Grimmjow's hands slid down to cup his backside, the steel grip kneading the now bare flesh there. It sent thrums of pleasure radiating throughout his entire body.
It was Ichigo who broke away this time, a trail of saliva breaking from in between their now swollen and red lips to land on his chin. He swept out with his tongue to lap at it before bringing his hands from where they had been intertwined in ultramarinely teal locks to push on Grimmjow's chest until their positions were reversed, the blunette's beautiful head resting against the pathetically small headboard of the tiny bed.
Ichigo give a coquettish smile up at his beloved before gripping onto the hose adorning the man and tearing up with such force that the pliable fabric was ripped into several pieces, revealing what lay underneath. Muscular, powerful legs that led to a place where a male member, already fully erect and even bigger than Ichigo had imagined, lay nestled amongst a tuft of blue curls.
He only hesitated slightly, having never done anything like this in the past, before bending his head forward to give the thick column of flesh a tentative lick. He heard Grimmjow inhale sharply and taking that as a good sign, he kissed the head, running his tongue along the slit that was there. Then he took that into his mouth, sucking gently, like he would a piece of candy, and then descending farther, taking more and more until the head hit the back of his throat, which was still not all the way to the hilt of the decently-sized member.
He choked a little, but managed to hold still. Ichigo looked up to Grimmjow, seeing that those wild blue eyes were practically on fire as they locked with his. He had no idea how looking up at the prince with those molten honey brown eyes nearly undid the other man right then and there. Bringing his right hand to grip the base of Grimmjow's erection, he began to bob his head up and down, the action creating carnal slurping sounds that filled the room as saliva escaped through the corners of mouth, running down his chin.
Grimmjow thrusted upwards every now and then, nearly choking him in the process as he was forced to have more of the flesh farther into his throat, but if the look on the beautiful man's face was any indication, he was seriously holding back. It only made Ichigo want to please him even more.
He was a little surprised when Grimmjow told hold of his own erection and began to move it around in his mouth, the head going to punch out his left cheek before sliding out with a popping noise. Instinctively, he stuck out his tongue which Grimmjow slapped the head of his member on repeatedly before slipping back into his mouth.
Gods, the sounds they were both making were turning Ichigo on to an unimaginable level. His own erection was turning painful and he tried to rub it against the sheets of the bed, but the didn't really work, so he reached down with one hand to stroke himself gently.
Grimmjow, obviously realizing they were both going to come far too soon if they kept going like this, pulled out of Ichigo's mouth, wiping away the spittle on the smaller male's face with his thumb gently. Then he curved his arm around Ichigo's bottom, pulling him up with his strong arms to lay beside him. In one of his large hands he gripped both of their erections and began to pump slowly, which caused Ichigo to moan loudly, his pretty fawn-like eyes rolling back in his head.
"Have you ever done this before?" Grimmjow asked against Ichigo's lips. The orangette's eyes fluttered open, peering up at the blue-haired prince through dark eyelashes. It was those eyes that had ensnared Grimmjow more than a month ago and they very nearly sent him over the edge for the second time that night as Ichigo panted and thrusted his slim hips into Grimmjow's firm grip.
"No," Ichigo moaned, eyes dilated and unfocused, obviously too caught up in the moment to give the other man anything other than a one-word answer.
Grimmjow paused in his ministrations, causing Ichigo to whine in frustration, bucking his hips up and seeking friction. Then the smaller male suddenly found himself on his back, Grimmjow's hands hooked on the back of his knees, folding his legs up so high that his lower back lifted up off of the bed. One of Grimmjow's hands then left his knee to proffer itself to Ichigo's mouth.
"Suck, it'll make it better."
Nodding, the former prince took the long, smooth fingers into his mouth eagerly. He knew enough about these kinds of things that this would mean that he would be the one being penetrated. He wondered when he had ever given consent to that, or why he was so willing to give it up without even putting up a fight. Then he realized he didn't very much care.
Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the blunette's head disappear and for a second Ichigo thought that the man would reciprocate the actions that he had performed earlier tonight and his erection twitched in anticipation. However, he felt hot breath pass over that part of his body, only to reappear somewhere close, but unexpected.
He cried out in both shock and delight as he felt something warm and soft trail over his entrance. Ichigo wanted to tell Grimmjow to stop doing... that, but at the same time he didn't want to. It felt too good and he felt his muscles relaxing as Grimmjow's skilled tongue continued to lap at him. He continued to suck on the fingers in his mouth, coating them liberally with his own saliva. He clutched onto the rough sheets as if they were a lifeline and resisted the urge to throw his head back and scream in pleasure.
A few minutes later, Grimmjow withdrew both his fingers and his tongue, leaving Ichigo feeling very hot and bothered. He saw through blurred vision as Grimmjow leaned over him once more, one hand still hooked on the back of his knee, but the other he soon felt at the place where Grimmjow's tongue had been. There was an unfamiliar pressure at his entrance as the blunette's ring finger slowly pushed its way inside. It was uncomfortable and amazing at the same time, feeling the burning stretch as a second finger slid in as well.
Ichigo knew he was panting like a dog and his member was straining, begging to be touched, the skin there now flushing red, like various other parts of him. But the only thing he found he could do was just clutch onto the sheets even tighter as Grimmjow's third finger joined the other two, making a scissoring motion that stretched his entrance in a strange but somehow nice way.
"This okay?" a voice sounded by his right ear and Ichigo just nodded, seemingly incapable of speech. Grimmjow gave a few light kisses along his face and the tenderness in them along with the physical pleasure he was feeling sent off fireworks inside of him. He felt like he could shed tears, it was a terrifying feeling, an amazing one. But love was always like that.
Suddenly one of Grimmjow's fingertips tapped against a spot that had Ichigo's vision going completely white like a snowstorm and his back arched off of his bed as an involuntary keening sound came from his mouth. But then just like that, the intense feeling was gone and Ichigo had sunk back to earth, gasping for breath and looking at Grimmjow quizzically. The blunette simply smirked.
"Found it."
Ichigo writhed around as he desperately tried to have Grimmjow's fingers hit that spot, but they were soon withdrawn, leaving him feeling very empty. But then something else was pressed against his entrance and lips found his again, biting, nipping. The blunt, large object began to press into him and Ichigo tensed, realizing what it was.
And then Grimmjow's voice was in his ear once more.
"Trust me."
Ichigo relaxed and looked up into eyes of pure blue ocean water as Grimmjow slowly seated himself inside of him, leaving his entire bottom half thrumming with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Ichigo grunted, the burning stretch in his rear was a little too much to bear, but he would do it. He loved this, loved being this close to Grimmjow. The fact that it was the blue-haired prince did thing to Ichigo that he had never felt before, the knowledge of it sending his head spinning.
Grimmjow's forehead rested against his and Ichigo briefly thought that he's never been more intimately connected with anyone in his entire life.
"What's your name?" Grimmjow asked against his lips, the man literally shaking with the effort to hold himself still in the other's tight heat, who sighed contentedly as he felt himself become adjusted to the blunette's member inside of him.
"Ichigo," he said softly, never breaking eye contact with the man who was currently inside of him.
"Ichigo," Grimmjow breathed, his soft breath fanning over Ichigo's face as he ever so slowly pulled a little out only to slide back in.
The pace was slow and positively torturous, for both of them. But it was so good at the same time.
Grimmjow's hands ran over the lace and ribbons adorning Ichigo's chest and abdomen, admiring how good the color looked against the other man's summer skin and the irony that it would be the exact same color as his hair.
When Grimmjow finally picked up the pace a little, sliding in and out of Ichigo's tight heat, he began to consciously hit the other's prostrate dead on, making the other's eyes roll back and choked gasps of pleasure escape from his pretty mouth.
"Ah, more, harder," Ichigo demanded breathlessly, shamelessly. Grimmjow could only oblige as he continued to sink into the other man, wrapping one large, tanned hand around the smaller erection that bobbed up and down in front of him with every thrust. He began to stroke slowly, not wanting the other to come too quickly, but Ichigo's strangled cries of pleasure and frustration made him pump faster.
Ichigo was in heaven, literally. It seemed like everything around him except for Grimmjow was white, like all he could see in color was in him. Just bronzed skin and blue, blue, blue. His favorite color, the color of the sky.
Every time Grimmjow's member inside of him would hit his sweet spot inside, Ichigo thought he would die right then and there. That's how good it felt. He knew he was close to the edge, all he needed was a push.
Grimmjow buried his face in the crook of Ichigo's neck, pushing his legs apart and as high as they would possibly go so he could seat himself as deep inside as was possible. Then he breathed out the three syllables that had Ichigo plummeting over the edge, the final push.
"Ichigo."
He came with a soft, sweet cry, spilling his seed over Grimmjow's hand and he felt his muscles spasm around the other's thick column that was still buried inside of him as deep as could be, which had the other coming in a domino effect with a low growl, Ichigo's warmth milking him of every last drop.
"Grimmjow," Ichigo sighed, feeling that it was only proper as the other pulled out of him, fluid flowing out of him to stain the sheets below him. The blunette prince collapsed next to him, wrapping strong arms around Ichigo's waist and they both closed their eyes, completely sated and content.
That was, until about a minute later when Ichigo's eyes snapped open, alarm clear in his doe-like irises. With a gasp he sat up and jumped off of the bed onto shaky legs.
Grimmjow who had been on the verge of falling asleep looked up at him with confused aquamarine eyes, his brow furrowing.
Ichigo felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest at any moment and like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs.
Someone knew what he looked like under the donkey hide cloak, someone knew his real name. Now it was only a matter of time before others found out, before news spread, across the kingdom and border, to Las Noches, to the castle, to his father. Then he would surely come back for him.
The thought of those cold, brown eyes had Ichigo clutching his stomach with one arm as he desperately sucked in air, but only managing shallow, fast breaths.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he vaguely heard from somewhere in front of him. Large, warm hands came to rest on his shoulders, circling the skin there soothingly.
Ichigo couldn't even get one word out through his pants, he just tugged at the front of his corset with one weak hand, his vision starting to blur.
"Shit."
Thankfully the other took the hint because just as his legs were beginning to give out on him, he was spun around and there was more pressure on his chest for a second before there was a loud tearing sound as Grimmjow tore the corset from his body, leaving the ruined fabric to flutter to the ground.
Ichigo took deep, gasping breaths, taking in as much sweet oxygen as he could. He could feel Grimmjow steadying him and leading him back to sit on the bed, where he collapsed onto it, laying on his back and looking up to the insanely gorgeous man he had lost his heart to, worry and concern swirling in those mediterranean eyes.
"Do we have time to talk now?" Grimmjow asked.
"Yeah, we have time."
It took a while for Grimmjow to process all of the information. That Ichigo had been formerly Prince Ichigo of Las Noches, son to King Aizen. That his mother had passed away and that she made his father promise that he would only marry someone that exceeded her in both beauty and grace and his father had come to the conclusion that only Ichigo fit that description. After trying to make impossible demands of his father that the king still complied with, and with the help of his fairy godmother, Ichigo managed to escape to the kingdom of Pantera. There he had been turned away by everyone because of his new appearance until he came to the castle, and then Grimmjow knew the rest.
Grimmjow had plenty of things to say, including they should go kill that bastard King Aizen, and that they should give a raise to Kenpachi, and that they should have seven kids when they got married, all girls.
Yes, that last one threw Ichigo for a loop too, considering least of all that they couldn't even have children because they were both men. To which Grimmjow replied that he had ways and that he had already picked out the names, Atsuki, Izumi, Sasuki, Yukari, Hazuki, Midori, and Jun.
But of course, Ichigo was too astounded by the fact that Grimmjow was talking about marriage that he didn't push the children issue any further.
The next day, Grimmjow took Ichigo to meet his parents, the king and queen, and when Ichigo went to put on his donkey hide cloak, he said they would burn it and that Ichigo could borrow some of his clothes for the time being. Ichigo almost felt sad when the thing was thrown into the incinerator. Almost. Wearing Grimmjow's clothes was much better, thank you very much.
The king and queen of Pantera turned out to be very kind people and offered Ichigo asylum in their country, to which the former prince refused. He said that if that his father ever came back for him under the threat of violence, he would go willingly. And then Grimmjow had
thrown a fit, scaring half of the royal guard so bad they nearly wet themselves and damning anyone who was going to take his husband away from him, never mind the fact that he and Ichigo had only been an item since the night before.
However, in typical happy ending fashion, they were married a month later, Ichigo becoming a prince once more. Surprisingly they received a letter from Las Noches, from King Aizen himself, saying that he wished them all the best and that he had actually married Gin Ichimaru, Ichigo's old tutor, and that he apologized for everything he had done to his son.
True to his word, Grimmjow adopted seven girls from the orphanage, all strawberry-blondes and named them Atsuki, Izumi, Sasuki, Yukari, Hazuki, Midori, and Jun. He and Ichigo ascended to the throne after his father stepped down some years later. They ruled the country with a firm fairness, balancing each other out perfectly, the way the sun and the moon did, always coming together in a perfect blue sky.
And they all lived happily ever after.
Well, except for Tousen, poor thing.
The End.
A/N: Well I hoped you all liked it, even if it was very cracky. It took two days straight to write it, I have never worked so hard on just one thing! Oh and I fully admit to wanting Ichigo's underwear for myself as I'm a bit of a pervert, but we knew this already. è_é
Thank you to MaxxieBEYOND, TianaMisoro, JojoNigno, inominatenoname, ArisuAmiChan, Silver Eternity, and TokugawaSmile. Your requests will all be written for reviewing the first chapter, though I can't say in which order. It kind of just goes along with my inspiration to write what you've requested.
For those who haven't submitted a request, don't be shy! But don't forget that the theme of these one-shots is that they are based off of something else, whether that be a fairy tale, myth, novel, movie, anime/manga, and so on and so forth. It doesn't have to specifically follow the plot of whatever you choose, it can be set in that universe or it could just be inspired by it. Read the introduction again and if you have any question, PM me, 'kay? I don't bite. :D
And you guys can look forward to GrimmIchiShiro, GrimmHime, and plenty of GrimmIchi coming up!
On a related note, a new pairing for me to obsess over is Grimmjow/Byakuya. Sooo hawtt. XD
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Donkeyskin.
Quote belongs to the original text of Donkeyskin.
Off to go edit the next chapter of Greek... don't be a stranger and drop a line, ne?