Chapter Twenty Seven: Solid Gold Part Two
Dinner with the Kurosaki clan was usually pretty rowdy, what with father and son yelling at each other and trying to show off their manliness with bouts of random hand to hand combat over some seemingly pointless reason while the girls ignored them for the most part. That night, however, things were a bit more subdued. Yuzu and Karin, fresh with new haircuts of close cropped hair, sat at the table at the restaurant and watched their smiling older brother tell them about his more recent adventures, keeping the more dangerous and highly sexual events out of the conversation for obvious reasons. Yuzu had gone a little pale when she heard about the explosion at his apartment complex but recovered quickly when he told her that he hadn't been there when it had happened.
"So where are you staying now, Onii-chan?" Yuzu asked, leaning her elbow on the table to rest her tired head on.
"Uh, with… a… friend." He glanced at Shinji who shrugged as if silently telling him he was on his own with that explanation.
Karin grinned at her brother's discomfort, having not yet forgiven him for her one sleepless night at his 'friend's' house.
"Would this be the same 'friend' we stayed with when the gas leak happened?" She asked with a smirk and almost giggled at the blush on his face.
"Uh… yeah."
Yuzu frowned at her sister. "You got to meet Onii-chan's friend and you didn't tell me?"
"I did too. The blue haired guy who saved the kittens and loves soccer almost as much as I do."
Yuzu's eyes went wide and she smiled. "Oh yeah!" She turned her shining eyes back to her brother. "Can I see the kittens one day, Onii-chan? Please?"
Ichigo couldn't help but smile at that face and nodded his head. "Sure. We can work something out, Yuzu."
After dinner they went back home, Yuzu was exhausted after a long day and needed to get to bed. Ichigo and Shinji, who Yuzu had a secret crush on, tucked her in and kissed her forehead goodnight before retiring to the living room. Isshin, Ichigo's father, and Karin went to bed as well, Isshin telling Ichigo that the both of them could sleep on the couches for the night before walking slowly up the stairs with a loud, obnoxious yawn.
Shinji reclined on the couch and smiled over at Ichigo. "We haven't been alone together in yer house in forever."
Ichigo chuckled. "Yeah, since graduation, huh? We got drunk and you puked in the bath tub. Dad was so pissed."
Actually his father hadn't been so much upset by the fact that they had been drinking but more by the fact that Shinji had missed the toilet which was right next to the bath tub.
"Uhg, don't remind me of the stupid things, baka."
They sat in silence for a while, Ichigo flipping through channels lazily as Shinji let himself relax a bit. He hadn't been able to sleep the night before, his dreams turning to nightmares of watching his father fall over and over again. Seeing his mother's stricken face and that scream… that scream tearing his insides apart. If he hadn't asked his father to take him to the park that day he would probably still be alive. They would still be a family.
He wasn't an idiot; he knew that his mother had changed after that. She had always been so happy before but after his father had died it was like she had reverted to being a child again. She hadn't been a bad mother, by any means, but her outward attitude had gone from bubbly adult to giddy child in the space of a week. It had helped them both get over things quicker, but Shinji often found himself wondering if that had been the best way to do things.
He sighed and closed his eyes. He hated feeling like this. He supposed he got it from his mother when he tried to just ignore things and pretend that everything was okay. He certainly wasn't as good at it as her.
"So, how're you doing? You know, with all this." Ichigo waved his hand in the air above his head when he said it.
Shinji shrugged, clearing his mind of his maudlin thoughts, and leaned his head on Ichigo's shoulder.
"Don't know how to think right now. Ya know, I still don't even understand what happened. And it's not like anyone is explainin' anythin' to us."
"Grimmjow won't tell me anything either and I don't think I could face Renji without beating the shit out of him right now. It's all because of him and Shuuhei that you and Grimmjow got hurt."
Shinji snorted out a giggle. "Aw, like a knight in shinin' armor, Ichi."
Ichigo snorted and pushed Shinji away from him. "Baka."
Shinji giggled some more and pushed Ichigo back, happy that they could be like this again; back to normal, back to the way they had been before all this shit had started.
"I just realized. Your hair. It's getting kinda long. Are you doing that on purpose?" Ichigo asked, grabbing at the ends of Shinji's hair with on hand and tugging a bit.
"I thought I might grow it out a bit, ya know? 'Sides, long hair is back in fer guys now and we all know how hot I look with it." He grinned.
"I don't see why you cut it in the first place. You cried like a bitch after it was all gone and you made the girl at the salon cry too."
Shinji chuckled. "She kept sayin', 'So pretty' over and over again."
"Well fuck. Wasn't it like down to your knees or something?"
Shinji nodded. "Seventeen years of growth. The only part okaachan would let anyone cut was my bangs."
"God, you looked like such a girl when I first met you. If you hadn't of pointed out the teachers boobs I think I might have really thought you were a girl."
"All I said was the teacher was gonna fall outta her shirt and we'd all be having nightmares about giant nipples attacking us."
Ichigo laughed, covering his mouth so he wouldn't make too much noise. "Oh God. That's right. Should of known you were bad news then."
Shinji turned his wide grin up at Ichigo and winked. "What fun would life be without little old me?"
Nnoitra leaned up against the wall of the building and sighed. This was the worst part of it all, the waiting for someone else to make the first move. Things would be so much better if people fought their battles out in the open like me instead of behind closed door like diplomatic fucks. Who did these guys thinks they were? They weren't even upper level yakuza and they were fucking with one of the larger families in the area. Idiots. He shook his head and let his fingers creep up to scratch his cheek under is eye patch. Damn scars were itching again. They always itched when the warmer weather came, but it was still better than the dull ache he got in his eye during the winter. He hated the winter.
Nnoitra had always been tall for his age; had always been teased for how tall he was. It was almost a given that he had turned into the little troublemaker he was. Even if his parents had paid him any attention he figured he'd have turned out exactly like he was now. Running the streets of his neighborhood at the age of seven wasn't surprising considering he looked like he was twelve and he had a left hook that had been proven to smash the little faces of the punks who tried to take him down. He got a name for himself secured quickly, was known by almost every thug in town and he loved it. He wanted to be just like them.
He met Grimmjow when he was eight, watched him fight from afar with a wide grin on his face and decided that that was someone he could be friends with. Real friends. He didn't have any of those, but he was sure Grimmjow would fit the bill nicely. After Grimmjow had been kicked out of his house Nnoitra had offered up his own house. It wasn't like his parents would care. They were too busy with their own lives to care about anything he did. The only time they took notice of him was when the drugs ran out and he didn't stick around long for those times.
It was summer time and he was almost twelve years old. He remembered it had been hot, and he had been running around without a shirt on again, letting the sun kiss his skin and the warmth of it fill him up inside. He walked through the front door, Grimmjow was off doing his own thing that day, and kicked off his shoes as he looked around the shit hole he lived in with surprise. It was clean again. His mother must have scored. With a sigh he made his way to the kitchen, hoping that she wasn't in there; hoping there was food in the fridge for once.
She was at the sink, peeling potatoes so thin they were practically chips, and turned around when she heard him. His mother was a short woman and with his height he had passed her long ago. She smiled, her glazed eyes not really focusing on him at all, and lifted the potato in her hand.
"Mama is makin' dinner. Ya like potatoes, dontcha?" Her voice sent shivers up his spine and his shook his head.
"I never liked potatoes, but ya wouldn't know that would ya?"
He usually tried to avoid conflict with his mother. He didn't know why, but it was always pointless to fight someone so much weaker than himself. His mother went still, her grip on the potato failing as it slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor with a dull thud. She stared at it for a moment as if wondering how it had gotten there before looking up at her son. Her face transformed then from the drugged childlike look to a sneer of crazed fury.
"Look what ya did!"
"Yer the one that fuckin' dropped it!" Nnoitra shouted back. Stupid bitch wasn't going to lay the blame on him.
Her breathing had changed, deep rasping gusts of air coming from her open mouth as she reached behind her on the counter for whatever was there.
"Ya can't talk ta me like that. I'm yer mama. You can't talk to me like that!" She screamed, lunging at Nnoitra.
For the first time in his life she caught him, arms around his waist as they both fell to the ground. He had been so stunned that he lay still for a moment and looked up into those wide, crazed purple eyes. He didn't see the flash of metal in her hand until it was too late, the fork coming down on his left eye before he had a chance to move. He felt it tear his eye lid, scoring over his eyeball before it ripped through the skin of his cheek. He screamed, pushing his mother off him and cupping a hand over his injured eye.
"Ya were never a good son! I've hated ya since the day ya were born! No one, not one of us wanted ya here!" His mother screamed as she tried to attack him once more.
His kicked her in the stomach as hard as he could and watched her crumple to the ground with a perverse satisfaction before he turned and fled the house. It hurt. It fucking hurt. His whole upper body now was covered in blood and his head felt puffy and light. It hurt.
He wasn't sure where he was, or where he was going, when he finally stopped, his breath panting out as he leaned over, clutching his stomach. There was blood in his mouth, but that didn't bother him. He could spit it out and get on with his life. What bothered him was his eye. He could feel his pulse beating through his hand, could feel the severed flesh beneath the thick coating of hot congealing blood.
"Fuck." He breathed, straightening up and pulling his hand away from his eye. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
He screamed it over and over as he turned and slammed his fist into the brick wall behind him. Until he couldn't feel his hand anymore. What was he supposed to do? Go to the hospital? Fuck that, they'd send him off to a foster home and that wouldn't fly with him. He needed the bleeding to stop. He looked down at his hand, realizing that now he was going to have to find someone to help him out with that as well, when someone called out to him. He looked up, one eye focusing on shoulder length pink hair and a tight school uniform.
"You look like you might need some help." A cool voice called out, not coming any closer than it had to.
Nnoitra frowned. He had never seen this person before and he was weary of new people.
"My father is a doctor, he could help you stop the bleeding." The young child smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile, but cool and calculating.
"The fuck'er you?" Nnoitra bit out, still not wanting to get too close. At least now he was fairly certain it was a male speaking to him, even if he did have ridiculous hair.
"My name is Szyael. Come, my father will fix you right up."
What choice did he have? Maybe the man could save his eye if he hurried. With a glare at the pink haired boy he followed at a distance. True to his word Szyael brought Nnoitra to his 'father' who went right to work stitching up his face. The eye was saved, but he wouldn't ever be able to see properly out of it again. The fork had damaged his cornea too badly for that. Once it was finished Nnoitra looked at himself in the mirror and sneered at the four perfectly spaced lines starting at his eyebrow and ending on the apple of his cheek. He lifted his newly bandaged hand and winced when he tried to wiggle his fingers. He had broken every bone in his hand when he had punched the wall.
He turned from the mirror and looked the man who had fixed him up in the eye with a defiant stance. It was strange looking at the world with only one eye.
"So what do ya want?" He asked with a slight toss of his head. No one did anything for free, he had leaned that at an early age.
"Oh I think we can work something out." The man had said, pushing his thick white hair back and out of his face, his pleasant smile not quite hiding a slightly sinister glint in his eyes that could be seen even through his glasses.
Nnoitra waited for the man to put gauze over his stitches before leaving the large house he had been brought to with a frown on his face. His face felt huge and it was throbbing horribly in time with his hand, but he hadn't been about to take any of the pain meds the 'doctor' had tried to foist upon him. He didn't need that shit. He'd never need that shit.
It hadn't been long after that that Grimmjow and Nnoitra both were brought to the House as it had been named. They had been living on the streets up until then, scavenging for food and money, pick pocketing or just beating people up for it when necessary. Szyael had found them, appearing almost out of nowhere like he had the time before with that sycophantic smile on his feminine features.
"You two need a place to stay?"
Soon after they left Osaka for Tokyo and began their induction into the yakuza way of life.
Nnoitra scratched once more at his scars and let a grin slide on his face when the man he had been waiting for exited the building across the street. Show time.
"Ah-ah, fuck. Yes, just like that. Mmn-ah."
Ichigo pulled back and gave the door a wary look. "Shut up or we'll get caught."
"You shut up and finish suckin' me off." Grimmjow snapped, grabbing Ichigo by the back of the head and guiding him back to what he had been doing before.
Ichigo took him in eagerly, sucking the head before engulfing his length completely. Grimmjow's eyes rolled closed and he let out another groan. Two weeks tomorrow, he thought fleetingly. Tomorrow they were letting him go home. If it hadn't been for the stupid infection he had gotten it would have been sooner and they'd be able to fool around like this in the privacy of his own bedroom. Or couch. Or kitchen counter. Shit, he didn't give a fuck where they did it anymore, he just wanted out of that damn room! He felt a familiar tightening in his belly and his hand gripped the orange spikes harder. Ichigo moaned around him and he bit his lip, a small strangled grunt the only sound he made as he spilled himself down Ichigo's throat. Ichigo sucked and licked every last drop from him before sitting back with a silly grin on his face. Three months ago he would never have pictured himself giving head in a hospital room to a man he was in love with, but then again, a lot had changed since then.
"What, are you practicing when yer not with me or something?" Grimmjow asked as he took a deep breath and tried to still his thumping heart.
Ichigo blushed. "No." He stated defensively.
Grimmjow chuckled and was pleased that the pain in his side was bearable now.
"Don't matter. You can practice on me any time."
Ichigo flushed scarlet and stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder before leaning down to press his lips to Grimmjow's. Grimmjow kissed him back, pleased when Ichigo let him deepen it, his tongue caressing the other languidly. Ichigo sighed into the kiss before pulling away and licking his lips.
"I'll see you tomorrow." He said, his voice low and breathy.
"Take you home and fuck you real good." Grimmjow grinned and reached for Ichigo's ass, his fingers sliding easily under the round curve.
"Shut up." Ichigo blushed again but let Grimmjow pull him in to another slow kiss.
"I have to go." He whispered against Grimmjow's lips. "I'll be late again and Z will kill me."
"Tch, whatever. Quit, I don't care."
Ichigo stood and smirked, shouldering his bag once again. "Yeah, well I do. Night, Grimmjow."
"Tch." Grimmjow pouted as Ichigo left the room, and readjusted himself on the bed.
He didn't see why he had to stay one more night. Like in one night he was going to miraculously be cured and he'd go home with no pain or wounds left to deal with. He rolled his eyes and reached for the laptop he had had Shawlong bring him. Might as well get some work done, he sighed.
It wasn't late enough to be too dark to see yet, but Shinji was glad he had made it home before it was. He didn't so much mind the walk in the dark, but lately he had a weird feeling someone was following him and the idea of being out when visibility would have been too hard made him shiver a bit. He unlocked the door to his apartment and let himself in, kicking his shoes off as he turned to lock the door. One could never be too careful.
As he padded to the kitchen to heat up his dinner, his mother was far too distracted with her newest project to cook for him, he looked around the room and sighed. It had been so much more fun when Ichigo had been there. At least there was someone to talk to when he got lonely.
He was halfway through boiling a cup of rice when something thudded into the wall in the apartment next to his. He stopped, looking up in the direction of the sound and waited. He had thought the apartment was empty now, thinking it only right for Renji to have moved away, but maybe he had been wrong. When he didn't immediately hear anything else he turned back to his hotplate but jumped when he head a male voice cry out in panic. The walls were thin and he tiptoed close, pressing his ear to the wall to hear more clearly.
"No, please. I already fucking apologized, damn it! Things weren't…." Renji's unmistakable voice called out and Shinji bit his lip.
He heard a murmur of sound, like someone whispering before Renji cried out again.
"No!"
It was silent after that and Shinji backed away from the wall with his eyes wide. What the hell had happened? Should he call the police? Should he at least go check on him? What if he was in trouble? When the timer he had set rang he nearly jumped out of his skin and turned to pull the pot of rice away from the heat. He shouldn't be worrying about what happened. He should just ignore it and pretend he hadn't heard anything. What could he do anyway? With a deep sigh he filled a bowl and sat on the couch, flipping on the TV and turning it to something fairly interesting.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, how long he ignored his rice and the TV, when there was a knock on the door. He frowned and stood, walking cautiously to it and peeking out the peephole. He groaned when he saw who it was and debated on not doing anything.
"Yo, I know yer in there Blondie." Nnoitra called out and leaned forward so that his face was closer to the peephole. "Gonna let me in or what?"
"No. I don't like you. How hard is that to understand?"
"Che, whatever. At least let me clean myself up."
"No. Go. Away."
"But I'm bleedin'." Nnoitra held his hand up to the door and Shinji sucked in a breath at the sight of the bright red blood on it.
Now another dilemma. Let Nnoitra in to assess his wounds, knowing that he would make himself at home and probably fall asleep, or try to ignore him and the blood.
"Damn it." Shinji muttered and unlocked the door. "Ya clean up and get the fuck out." He said sternly as Nnoitra brushed passed him with a smirk.
"Actually it ain't my blood." At the look on Shinji's face he laughed and walked to the sink. "It ain't even blood. It's ink."
"You asshole. Get out then. Now."
Nnoitra ignored him and started to scrub the red ink from his hands, hoping that if he got to it quick enough it wouldn't stain too bad.
"How the hell did ya end up with red ink all over ya anyway?"
Nnoitra grinned over his shoulder. "Talent."
Shinji rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He hated this man. Why couldn't he see that? It wasn't like he ever tried to hide his contempt. Once he was cleaned up Nnoitra dried his hands on his pants and sat heavily on the couch.
"Uh-uhn. No, ya have ta leave."
"But I came all the way out here ta see ya." Nnoitra said with a grin.
"Why?!" Shinji held up his hand. "Never mind. Just leave."
"Yer too wound up. Ya need to get laid."
Shinji growled. "Shut up. Ya can't stay here."
He started to walk to the bathroom when he was suddenly pushed back into the wall and Nnoitra was looming over him, far too close for comfort.
"C'mon Blondie. I won't hurt ya unless ya want me too."
The predatory gaze in his eye and the timbre of his voice sent a shiver down Shinji's spine and he felt his blood stir. Shit, that wasn't supposed to happen!
"I already told ya no, baka. Now back the fuck off and let me go ta the bathroom." His voice shook a little at the end and he prayed Nnoitra hadn't noticed. He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but over the last two weeks Nnoitra had slowly been wearing on him. He still hated the man, but that eye and his powerful aura promised so much if he would just give in.
Nnoitra reached down and cupped Shinji's cock, his long fingers curling between his legs to fondle his balls as well. He angled his head so that his mouth was close to Shinji's ear.
"C'mon. Ya know ya want it. Ya want my cock in yer ass so bad ya can taste it. Ya wanna ride me, ya want me ta fuck ya stupid. 'Til ya can't walk anymore. Just give in." He squeezed his fingers and smiled when he felt Shinji's cock twitch. "It ain't like I'll show ya a bad time."
That voice. That deep, seductive voice curled around Shinji's body, caressing and promising pleasure the likes of which he had denied himself for far too long. Shinji shook his head and placed his hands in the middle of Nnoitra's chest, pushing with all his might. He was only slightly surprised that he succeeded and he quickly walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it.
"Be gone by the time I'm done, asshole." He called out as he leaned against the wall by the shower. He heard Nnoitra laugh and he closed his eyes. "Fuck." He breathed, reaching down to adjust himself inside his pants.
That had been close. Too close. He needed to find another outlet for everything going on in his life or he was going to do just what was suggested of him.
Give in to the temptation.
A/N Yay, progress... kinda. Poor Shin-chan. He needs ta lighten up a bit, ne? Hope ya liked Nnoitra's back story, I've been workin' that one out for a while and I hope it turned out okay. Hope ya all like it :D:D Oh yeah, I drew a pretty picture in honor of the Solid Gold part of this story. On my profile page is the link to the pic. Check it out if ya want :D
~Penny