Ichigo is an aspiring artist in his senior year of high school. However gentle a person he may be, he seems to catch the unwanted attention of several thugs and bullies, so when the two people he's been in love with since freshman year offer him protection, what can he do but accept? However, he has trouble containing his feelings for both of them, knowing that he can have neither both or just one. It all boils down on prom night.

Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Polyamorous, Lemon (Threesome), some violence, naughty language, vast amounts of teenage angst.

Constellation

A GrimmIchiShiro inspired by Mars.

Written for ArisuAmiChan

Suggested Listening:

"Every You, Every Me" by Placebo

"Creep" by Scarling

"Blinding" by Florence and the Machine

"Eyes on Fire" by Blue Foundation

"S-so, I was just w-wondering if you'd l-like t-t-to go topromwithme?"

Ichigo didn't know what to say, he just stared blankly at the auburn-haired girl before him. Her storm gray eyes lifted from the floor to meet his and she lifted both of her hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Just as friends!" she protested, an uneasy half-smile spreading across her face as her expression betrayed her nervousness.

"Oh...oh, okay," Ichigo said lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. Orihime's eyes widened and her smile relaxed.

"Really? You're sure it's okay? I mean I know that you're-," Orihime paused, biting her lip.

"Gay?" he finished for her, grinning a little bit. He couldn't blame her for being a tad bit awkward about it, he had only come out to her and Rukia two months ago.

"Well, yes," she said sheepishly. Ichigo just shook his head and reached a hand out to ruffle her hair, causing her to squawk and reach her hands up to try and fix it.

"It's okay, Orihime." The girl then looked like she was going to say something else, but the bell cut her off and the heavy classroom door slammed shut, making all of the teenagers in the room pause in their conversations. They all watched with listless eyes as Mr. Kuchiki walked to his desk in the front of the room and stood in front of it, slate eyes roaming across the room with a cold stare, the stare that was the reason he had been chosen by the school to be the independent study supervisor.

"Work on your respective assignments until the bell rings. No talking," and with that he stalked around the desk and sat in his chair. Once he had opened a book and began to read, Ichigo deemed it safe to look back to what the math homework he should be doing.

However, after five minutes of staring at equations until he felt like his eyes might start to bleed, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning his head slightly, he saw the girl behind him holding a folded piece of paper out to him. He turned even more to face the girl, who was looking at him with a disinterested expression and chewing the tip of a pen.

"For me?" he mouthed. She just nodded once in return and Ichigo took the piece of paper from her outstretched hand and unfolded it, facing forward once more. He nearly sighed out loud when he saw what it was. And here he had thought that maybe someone had found him interesting enough to write him a note during class. Instead?

It was one of those stupid survey things that had been spreading around the school lately like wildfire.

Ichigo looked up at the clock above the whiteboard.

Forty-five minutes left to go…

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to put off math for a few minutes.

Looking down at the paper, he saw that the survey had been handwritten in blue pen, with little hearts above the 'i's. He didn't even know that anyone still did that. Scanning the first question, Ichigo felt warmth flush across his cheekbones.

Have you ever done it?

Twirling his pen in his fingers, he hesitated before writing down his answer.

I don't think so.

If you answered 'I don't think so', would you ever if you could?

I guess so.

With who? (Be honest. Your name's not on this, so it's okay)

Ichigo's eyes flitted nervously across the room, anxiously checking to see if anyone was looking at him, at what he would write down. When he was satisfied that no one was paying any attention to him, and the desperate secret he was about to spill on paper, he put his pen to the line.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques + Hichigo Shirosaki.

Do they know that you want to with them?

Ichigo sighed heavily, but no one paid him any attention as he wrote in big, bold letters his answer.

NO.

"Earth to Ichigo!"

A sudden rapping of knuckles against his poor head startled Ichigo out of his stupor and he looked down to see a petite girl glaring up at him with perturbed dark violet eyes.

"Wha'?" he asked through a mouthful of french fries.

"Were you even listening to what I was saying just now?" Rukia interrogated, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes!" Ichigo insisted.

"Then what was I saying?"

…

"Hmph, that's what I thought. What I was trying to tell you was," Rukia's face softened from an irritated expression to one of bliss, her lips parting into a small smile. "Renji asked me to prom."

Ichigo swallowed and smiled at the girl who was one of his best friends since preschool. Rukia had been pining for the tattooed redhead since they had been in junior high and she had spotted him playing fusal after school.

"That's great, Rukia," he said, genuinely happy for her. Maybe if her unrequited (now requited) love had approached her, maybe it would happen for him…

His eyes traveled across the cafeteria, to the end table where a few people were loitering around, none of them eating, of course. They projected some sort of aura and most of the students stayed far, far away. There were rumors of course, gang activity, drug trafficking, etc. etc. You know, the works. And there were two in the center of it all, and they were beautiful.

And therein lied the problem.

That was the reason why Ichigo would never have some sort of happy ending, never have anything other than unrequited love, because it wasn't possible. Not when there were two, two blinding stars amidst all the bland dross of Karakura High School.

Hichigo Shirosaki, more commonly referred to as Shiro, was ethereally, undeniably gorgeous. He looked like something out of a fairy tale (or a horror story, whichever way you looked at it, he was still beautiful). His skin was pure white and flawless, with shoulder-length hair to match that looked like moonlight when the sun caught it in just the right way. Ichigo had only ever been close enough to see Shiro's eyes a handful of times, but they were just as unique and enchanting as the rest of him, the sclera being midnight black and the irises a molten golden color.

Ichigo noticed that today Shiro was wearing black jeans that were seemingly painted onto his legs and a dark gray v-neck that was cut low enough to showcase a porcelain cut of collarbone and defined pectoral muscles. The dark colors only served to make his pearly skin all the more luscious. Not to mention that he had several piercings, including studded snake bites, an industrial on his left ear, and two eyebrow rings over his right eye.

Like he said, gorgeous.

Ichigo then looked over to where Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was sitting right beside Shiro. No surprise there, really, the two were never truly seen without each other.

Grimmjow was taller and broader than his friend, but no less beautiful. He looked like a true water/sex god come to life. His skin was sun-kissed, the perfect backdrop for his bluer than the Mediterranean eyes and turquoise jewel-colored hair, the hair that was somehow perfectly imperfect, mussed and with a few strands brushing his forehead. His smile almost hurt Ichigo's eyes, white teeth against summer skin made them look positively dazzling. He had gotten teal streaks of color tattooed underneath his eyes in sophomore year, and they made him look divine, like he wasn't of his world. No one that pretty could be.

He was sporting a royal blue flannel plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms and distressed jeans torn in all the right places that just made Ichigo want to rip the rest of them right off of the blunette's body. And one time, he had been lucky enough to see that Grimmjow had a pierced tongue, an aqua stud that matched his hair resting in the middle of that wet muscle.

They were perfection.

How was he supposed to expect even one of them to notice him? They didn't even know he existed, and Ichigo hated that. He hated that even if one of them were to take an interest in him, he still wouldn't be satisfied, because…he wanted both.

Ichigo hadn't even realized that his hand had been moving, his pencil flying across the paper in front of him until that paper was snatched out from under his hand.

"Oh, what's this?" Rukia teased, mirth lighting up her dark violet eyes as they scanned what the orangette had been subconsciously sketching.

"Hey, give that back!" Ichigo protested, reaching out for the paper, only to have it yanked out of his reach.

"Wow, Ichigo," the petite girl's voice was solemn, making him frown in confusion. "This is really good."

"It's…it's just a sketch," Ichigo insisted, finally plucking the piece of paper from Rukia's grasp and shoving it into his backpack, the likeness of both Grimmjow Jaegerjaques and Hichigo Shirosaki disappearing into the dark cavern.

For some reason Ichigo could never fathom, it seemed that he never failed to capture the attention of other males looking for a fight. It was like he had some sort of bullseye painted on his back or on his forehead or something. Maybe it was because of his traffic cone bright orange hair that acted as a kind of beacon for troublemakers.

Anyway, it didn't really matter why he seemed to always find himself in these kinds of situations, because the fact of the matter was, was that once, twice, three times a week it happened. It wasn't a huge deal considering that Ichigo could fend for himself and he would almost always be on the winning side of any fight, but there were the times that he could use a hand, or two.

Times like when he was walking home that day.

He had just passed the convenience store, where he parted ways with Rukia every day after school, when he heard it. That whistle, jeering and insolent, stopped him in his tracks and he gripped his backpack tighter with one hand as he looked across the street.

Ichigo recognized them immediately, the four of them had been the bane of his existence almost everyday since he he had first started attending Karakura High School. Out of all the people who picked fights with him, they were the most persistent, taunting him nearly twice a month ever since. He didn't understand why they kept coming back when he had pummeled every single one of them into the ground more times than he could count. Probably for some sort of twisted machismo pride, trying to regain their honor or something.

The four boys, whom Ichigo knew to be seniors at another high school, crossed the street quickly, their de facto leader at the forefront. Ichigo could say without hesitation that he hated that one the most, he always tried to come up with clever one-liners and other things to say while Ichigo was in the middle of planting his fist in the guy's ugly face.

'Ey, Kurosaki, I heard somethin' real interesting about you," the leader smirked.

"Yeah?" Ichigo frowned. "And what would that be?"

The three others flanked the leader, identical grins on all of their sub-par faces.

"That you're a faggot."

Ichigo's eyes infinitesimally widened, but then narrowed, sneer appearing on his lips.

"So, it's true then?" the leader pressed.

"It wouldn't matter, I'd still be able to kick your ass, just like I do every time you start shit with me," Ichigo scoffed.

"Oh, really?"

Ichigo was about to retort when something caught his eye, his gaze flickering to where the dying sunlight was glinting off a piece of metal that made his breath hitch in his throat. There wasn't a doubt as to what it could be, and though he had been fending these guys off of for nearly four years now, he had never thought it would come to this.

He took an subconscious step backwards, away from the danger of the switchblade that had been flicked through the leader's knuckles. And it seemed that the others had learned from all the times Ichigo had taken them down, taking advantage of his momentary distraction and two of them seizing his arms and the last one landing a solid blow to his gut before Ichigo could do anything. His backpack fell to the ground and in his slight pained daze they shoved him up against the brick wall.

Feeling panic for the first time in a very long time, Ichigo struck out with his foot, making contact with someone's groin, who then groaned and fell to his knees. His eyes swept across the street, but no one was there. He would have to get out of this on his own.

The two still had his arms pinned against the wall as their leader strode up towards him, switchblade twirling about clumsily in his fingertips. He was trying to look cool doing it, but it was obvious that he was inexperienced, which was even worse and far more dangerous than if he actually knew how to use one. Moving fast and dodging another one of Ichigo's kicks, the leader pressed right up against the orangette, blade right placed against Ichigo's throat.

Ichigo's pulse quickened and he struggled, but to no avail, the grip on his arms were like iron.

"Well, if you are a faggot, then you're sure to enjoy this," the leader chuckled darkly, placing one hand on Ichigo's jeans' waistband, causing the boy's struggling to cease in shock, allowing that hand to reach for the button to his jeans.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Ichigo yelled, his voice hoarse and thick and he managed to rip one of his arms free, immediately wrapping a hand around the leader's wrist and jerking it away. He was only rewarded with the harsh feeling of the blade pressed closer to his throat, the metal biting into his skin just the slightest bit so that a trickle of red blood was spilled.

"Shut up, I know you like it, fa-"

However, the leader never did get to finish the slur, because the next second he was on the sidewalk, a foot very nearly grounding his head into the pavement. Ichigo felt the grip on his other arm release and he slid to the ground onto his backside, his legs feeling like jelly. He looked up to see his saviors outlined in the sunset glow and felt his heart stop.

"Now, now, Yoshi, wanna tell me wha' yer doin' on our turf?" the silvery voice of the owner of the foot that was keeping the leader's head pinned to the pavement asked. The leader's, or Yoshi's, expression was one of pure terror as he gazed up into gold on black eyes. But before he could say anything, a loud bang capture his attention and Ichigo looked over to see all three of the other senior boys that had been holding him against the wall were now in the dumpster beside the convenience store, moaning in pain. The blunette that had obviously been the cause of that was leaning against said dumpster, lighting up a cigarette behind his hand.

"Ah, I'm so sorry, Mr. Shirosaki, Mr. Jaegerjaques, I didn't know this was your turf!" Yoshi pleaded, whimpering when the pressure from Shiro's foot increased. "P-please, I'm sorry!"

Mr. Shirosaki? Mr. Jaegerjaques? Ichigo was thoroughly confused.

"Tch, liar," Grimmjow muttered around his cigarette. Ichigo glanced back to where Shiro had a contemplative look on his exquisite face, tapping a finger to his lips in thought.

"Well, I'd love ta rough ya up a bit, Yoshi, but m'fraid it's not my place," his lips spread into a slightly crazed smile that sent shivers down Ichigo's spine, in a very good way. "I'll jus' tell Gin ya've been overstepping your bound'ries, yes?"

"Oh, no, please don't! I'll do anything, I'm sorry!"

"Would ya prefer me and Grimmy over here ta show ya what happens to little shits like ya who come into our turf unannounced?" Shiro asked, almost simpering. Yoshi looked from Shiro to Grimmjow and then back again, his eyes full of fright. In fact, it looked like he mat start crying at any point, which Ichigo would've thoroughly enjoyed if he wasn't in shock. Shiro removed his foot from Yoshi's head, stepping back. "Get the fuck outta here."

Yoshi wasted no time before scrambling to his feet, switchblade forgotten on the ground, and running clumsily down the street.

"Ya alright, Ichigo?"

It took him a few seconds to realize that Grimmjow was talking to him, and that he had just said his name. How did he know his name?

Ichigo couldn't say anything and didn't try to after only a small, strangled sound escaped from his throat. Two large, warm hands placed themselves underneath his arms and hauled him to his unsteady feet.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques and Hichigo Shirosaki had just saved him, him, from being molested and possibly raped on the street corner. And Grimmjow knew his name, and had touched him…

Fingers snapping in front of his face brought him back to Earth, a hand still on his shoulder to keep him from falling over.

"I think he's in shock," Grimmjow grunted, resorting to waving a hand in front of Ichigo's face, calling his name. Shiro shrugged and moved over to where Ichigo's backpack had fallen to the ground, several papers spilling out of the thing and onto the sidewalk. He started to gather them in his hands, when he paused and reached for one, holding it up to his face.

"Hey Grimmy, look a' this," he said, an uncharacteristically soft smile on his face and his black and gold eyes trailed over to meet Ichigo's as he handed the piece of paper over to his friend, whose blue eyebrows furrowed.

"Heh, kid's pretty talented," he mused and that was when Ichigo was finally spurred into action, ripping the piece of paper out of Grimmjow's hand rather rudely, eyes scanning over it in mild terror.

Oh no…

Of course one of the very few papers that had fallen out of his backpack would be the one crude sketch he had done during lunch period that day.

"So, Ichigo," Shiro stepped closer to the orangette, backpack dangling from his hand, and if this wasn't one of the many scenarios that Ichigo had dreamt of so often, he didn't know what was. "You seem to get into a lot of fights."

"Yeah," he breathed, all too aware that the two loves of his life were within a two foot radius.

"Let's make a deal, then."

And that was how it all started. The daily walks to school and back with both Grimmjow and Shiro.

It had been agreed that fateful day that Ichigo was in a little over his head with the thugs who swarmed the neighborhood like locust after hours, especially now that he had caught the special attention of Yoshi and his little band of followers. It was too much for him to handle by himself, so Grimmjow and Shiro had offered themselves up as bodyguards of sorts and at first Ichigo had been suspicious, especially when all they had asked for in return was a colored version of the sketch he had done of the both of them.

It was torture, to put it simply. Sweet, perfect torture, but still torture all the same. It seemed like the more time he spent with both the blunette and the albino, the more he fell for them, for their manic grins and sparkling eyes. He loved Shiro's slinkiness and the way his jeans always seemed to rest on his exquisitely cut hipbones. And he loved Grimmjow's brash arrogance and the way he ran his hand through his already tousled blue hair whenever he had trouble expressing himself in those fleeting moments of doubt. He learned everything he possible could about them, that they had practically grown up together, as Shiro had been orphaned at a young age and Grimmjow's parents had kicked him out years ago. They had fallen into the gang life, of course, and in a second of true sincerity, both said they wanted out, but once you were in, you were in for life. There were so many layers to the both of them that Ichigo had never expected and it only served to make him all the more anguished, even more so than a regular teenager.

He didn't think that he could possibly divide his heart anymore evenly between the two of them. Ichigo could never choose between his two bright, blinding stars.

Of course, the thought of pursuing either one of them flew completely out of his mind a month later, exactly a week before prom.

Ichigo had taken to eating with the two and their select circle of friends. In fact, he could say that he probably spent all of his waking time with Grimmjow and Shiro when he wasn't in class. This had caused some concern from his other friends, but he had brushed them off. But one day, they didn't show up to lunch, which was unusual ever since they had come up with the agreement a month earlier. Before it was rare that the two would even come to school, but after that day when they had interfered on Ichigo's behalf, they had been showing up every day.

Needless to say, he had been worried and had sought them out in the school hallways, knowing they had to be there somewhere, considering he had just seen them that morning. Ichigo looked throughout almost the entire school, until he came to the second story boy's bathroom, in which he heard two very familiar voices coming from the last stall.

"Shit, right there."

"Yeah, ya like tha'?"

Ichigo froze, the sounds of what was undeniably lips and skin meeting each other filling the bathroom and his ears. And he felt his heart plummet from his chest to shatter into a million pieces in the pit of his belly.

He had left the bathroom soundlessly, and the school, skipping the rest of the day's classes. He didn't answer the door when Grimmjow and Shiro came around looking for him. He didn't answer his cell phone either. He didn't go to school the next day, and when he did the next, he made sure to leave much earlier than usual so he wouldn't run into them. He didn't acknowledge either of them when they called his name in the hallways. He didn't wait for them after school.

Ichigo knew he was being childish. He had no claim to either of them, and therefore had no right to say what they couldn't do or not do, but it still hurt. It hurt so bad sometimes he thought he could curl up and wither and die right there. It wasn't exactly betrayal he felt, he just felt so…left out.

"Christ, this school's so fucking cheap, having the senior prom in the gym."

Ichigo just nodded along with Rukia's redheaded prom date, Renji, as he poured himself a glass of punch. He must've been on his fifteenth glass by now, and they were only an hour into what must've been the most God-awful prom ever. He couldn't believe he had rented a tux for this.

Orihime was pleasant enough company, mostly quiet, having sensed his rather sour mood of late, and after she had been asked by some stoic guy with dark, shaggy hair to dance twenty minutes ago, she had asked if it was okay with him. Ichigo had nodded and he hadn't seen her since, which was good because he hated dancing anyway. Rukia had gone off to powder her nose or something, leaving him there with Renji.

"Yeah…I'm gonna go to the bathroom," Ichigo said, placing his now empty glass on the table.

"No wonder, you've been downing that punch ever since we got here."

Ichigo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and spun around, walking out of the gym that had been decorated with streamers and colored lights. He tugged at his tie as he opened the door to step out into the hallway, sighing in relief as the chilled air hit his face, it had been far too hot in there, with all the body heat and it being the middle of May.

He was wondering how long he could stay out of the gym without being rude to Orihime as he walked by some of the empty classrooms when something wrapped around his right arm, dragging him into one of them and slamming the door shut behind him.

Obviously the sense of security he had had in the last month had dulled his senses.

"What the-" he started, but a hand clamped over his mouth and he was shoved up against the classroom wall.

"Finally caught up to ya, Ichigo."

It then hit him that two people had dragged him into the classroom and that that rough velvet voice was all too familiar. The hand that been over his mouth released him, but he didn't say anything, just frowned up at both Shiro and Grimmjow. The former leaned forward until his face was nearly pressed against the orangette's, and Ichigo could smell the faint scent of Drakkar Noir on porcelain skin. It was positively intoxicating.

"Ya wanna tell us why ya've been avoiding' us, hm?" Shiro asked, his voice nothing but a whisper across Ichigo's cheek, sending pleasurable shudders down his spine. Ichigo's gaze flickered from Shiro to Grimmjow, who was standing very, very close as well, cyanic, hard eyes pinning him where he stood.

"I-I…" Ichigo trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"You what?" Grimmjow pressed, his normally gruff voice soft. Even his hard as diamond eyes were slowly melting like molten sapphires. It wasn't very fair what that, plus Shiro's breath now running across his neck, did to poor Ichigo.

"I heard you two," he confessed. "In the bathroom, last week, I…" he paused again, not finding the right words in his compromised mind. "I'm sorry."

Shiro pulled back a little, gold on black eyes flitting away to meet Grimmjow's blue, a slight frown on both of their faces. Then the blunette faced him once more, a smirk replacing his frown.

"You're not sorry now, but you will be," he said and before Ichigo could say anything to that, soft, pillowy lips had covered his own in a searing kiss. He felt his eyes widen and then slowly close as Grimmjow coaxed his lips into reacting with his own, tongue sliding past his now parted teeth to entwine with his. It felt like forever until the blunette finally pulled away, but before Ichigo could even catch his breath, Shiro, whom he had never forgotten was there, captured his mouth in a kiss just as blissful and steaming as his last one. When that kiss was broken too, Ichigo panted, looking up at the two other boys, whom he noticed were not dressed as if they were going to their senior prom, and scowled in confusion.

"I don't understand," he said. Weren't Shiro and Grimmjow together? Why would they kiss anyone else, and be perfectly content watching their partner kiss someone else right in front of them.

"Then stop tryin' ta," Shiro insisted, leaning forward yet again to place his lips on Ichigo's neck, nipping gently, while Grimmjow maneuvered himself to Ichigo's right side, kissing him once again.

As confused as Ichigo was, he was in heaven for sure. He never, ever thought that he could have two such divine beings as Grimmjow and Shiro kissing him, putting their hands all over his body in ways he had never even dreamed of, at the same time. It was perfection, heartbreakingly lovely, especially when they both pulled away and he looked up to both of them, both of their faces only alike in their beauty filling his vision at the same time.

Grimmjow's arms wrapped around his waist, bodily placing him on top of the large teacher's desk in the room, Shiro crawling up behind him, running his alabaster hands down the front of his tux, undoing the buttons ever so slowly. It vaguely hit Ichigo that this was the independent study classroom, and that this was Mr. Kuchiki's desk, and he would've laughed at the somewhat irony of it all if Grimmjow hadn't pulled him in for another bruising kiss.

Ichigo, feeling a little more confident now, placed his hands on the blunette's broad chest, sliding them down until the reached the hem of his t-shirt, which he slid his fingers underneath to feel the heated, taut skin that lay over the man's defined abdominal muscles and all the while he could feel Shiro behind him. And he was then being slowly coaxed backwards, so that he was laying on his back, on top of Shiro's chest, pressed in between both him and Grimmjow, whom had crawled onto the desk on his hands and knees.

Grimmjow's lips left his and Ichigo almost whined until he saw where they were going next.

He watched Shiro and Grimmjow kiss with all the rapture of a devout disciple. They were beautiful together, perfect white against summer skin, Shiro's black painted nails scraping across Grimmjow's flawless back as he peeled off the man's shirt. Grimmjow reached around Ichigo to do return the favor, revealing a lithe, toned, crystalline torso and arms for both his and Ichigo's viewing pleasure, the latter humming in pleasure as both of their exposed chests crushed him in between them exquisitely.

Both of the other males then set about undressing Ichigo, very nearly ripping the black jacket and white collared shirt off of the boy, Shiro tugging at the tie still around his neck to pull Ichigo into a slow, smoldering kiss. When the orangette felt warm, large hands at his belt buckle he groaned and bucked his hips upwards, earning a chuckle from both of the others. But his pants soon came off with a flourish, dropping to land on the floor, both Grimmjow and Shiro's following as their hands continued to roam his body in a torturous manner.

Ichigo could feel his erection straining against his boxers and with Shiro grinding into him from behind and Grimmjow from the front, he was afraid that he might lose all sense of himself, as well as his dignity if something else didn't happen soon. But then he felt a sharp sensation on his hipbone where Grimmjow bit down and he gasped at the feeling as the man's fingers slid into his boxer briefs, lightly skimming the heated flesh of his cock.

"Oh g-ahhh," Ichigo moaned, wantonly thrusting his hips upwards as he lay his head in the crook of Shiro's shoulder, who kissed his temple in an almost surprisingly sweet gesture. It distracted him so much that when Grimmjow's mouth enveloped the head of his erection, he yelped at the unbelievably delicious sensation. It was so hot and wet that he thought might come then and there, especially when he looked down to lock gazes with cyanic fire, orbs that had simultaneously darkened and brightened with lust.

"Yeah, ya like it when Grimmy sucks yer cock?" Shiro simpered in his ear, and while Ichigo would've normally been mortified by such dirty talk, in his aroused state, he only nodded, biting down on his already swollen bottom lip to keep from crying out. They were still in school and could still be discovered, and wouldn't that be lovely.

Ichigo was rapidly turning into a pile of mush in Shiro's arms, he felt completely boneless as pure pleasure completely overwhelmed him, so he didn't have much of a reaction when Grimmjow's saliva moistened ring finger slid into him, but when his middle finger did, he jumped a little at the uncomfortable feeling. Shiro was quick to press his lips to his, momentarily distracting Ichigo with his intoxicating kiss, but when Grimmjow's fingers began to move in a scissoring motion, Ichigo hissed and broke away, scowling down at the blunette, which was hard to do when the man still had his dick in his mouth (which still felt incredibly amazing and was the only reason he wasn't pulling away he might add.)

"Shh, just relax, it'll get better," Shiro cooed in his ear, one porcelain hand reaching down to caress the curve of Ichigo's ass. And so he did, melting into Shiro's embrace once more, only to almost shoot his load when one of Grimmjow's fingers crooked and brushed against a spot that had him seeing stars. It was so intense that he couldn't tell from exactly where the pleasure had started, where it had begun, because it seemed to fill his entire body. It had him arching his back and he was vaguely aware that Shiro was now also without his underwear and his heated erection was brushing up against the cleft of his ass and he'd be damned if it didn't feel amazing, both of the two people he loved touching him, giving him pleasure.

When Grimmjow pulled away, he felt incomplete and opened his eyes to scowl at him, hips bucking in impatience, earning him amused laughter from the two other men. However, he didn't have to suffer the seemingly empty, frustrated feeling for long because suddenly there was something much bigger prodding at his entrance. And then there were two much bigger somethings, and he pushed at Grimmjow's chest and elbowed Shiro in the ribs.

"No fucking way," he insisted. Not the both of them, at the same time, on his very first experience with this sort of thing.

"Then who first?"

He wasn't sure who had asked that, but it didn't matter, because therein lied the problem. He couldn't choose, he never could and would never be able to.

"Okay," he affirmed softly, taking a shaky breath and nodding his head once. And then they both pushed in, slowly and it hurt, but it wasn't as if Ichigo had never experienced pain before and besides, it wasn't as if it was all bad. There was a deeply seated pleasure coiling up his spine, a sweet ache that kept it from being unbearable.

It was slow and it felt like ages and ages had passed until they were both inside of him. He felt like he may break apart into pieces, but somehow those two pairs of strong, warm arms around him kept him whole. Then he wondered why they weren't moving and looked up into two pairs of striking eyes, confusion clear in his own. Then it hit him that they were awaiting his affirmation and that hit such a tender spot inside of his heart that even in his discomfort he managed a small smile.

"It's okay," he whispered and then there wasn't one pair of lips on his, but two, a three-way kiss, and it wasn't awkward at all. It was perfect, and when they started to move and there was more pain, he clung onto them, biting their swollen lips in retaliation, but then they both hit that very, very sweet spot inside of him that had his vision going completely black and white, like static. And then there was no pain at all, only pleasure.

It continued on like this for what felt like only a second and yet somehow like an aeon at the same time. And then someone's hand, he wasn't sure whose, wrapped around the base of his erection and squeezed, moving slowly upwards, as if milking him, and he finally came with a shudder, his blunt nails digging into alabaster and summer skin.

And that's when it hit him.

His heart wasn't divided, it was whole and encompassed his love for both of them. Turns out stars are at their best, not alone, but when they join together and form a constellation.

...

A/N: Ah, my first High School AU, and my first polyamorous fic. It's also my first time writing a Bleach pairing other than Grimmjow/Ichigo. So…hope you guys liked it! Oh and if you've made a request, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you, but I am working on other things at the moment so it may take awhile for me to write them.

Hah, my threesomes = realistic. ;P I really suggest NOT trying that at home.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Oh and the note thingy at the beginning? Totally lifted off of Sixteen Candles.