Chapter 3 – Forget About It

Yeah-yeah-yaoi … cursing …

To continue ….

Friday

After Ichigo got home, he practically collapsed into his bed and was asleep within moments after bidding his beloveds good night. Generally he couldn't fall asleep that fast unless he was post-orgasm, but with the stresses he had endured this week, it wasn't really all that surprising. He needed it mentally, too - sleep was a welcome relief from consciousness. He did not dream, or if he did, he didn't remember anything.

He woke up to find the alarm clock glowing 7:32 p.m. Wow. How long had it been since he'd slept in like that? Freakin' ages. He lay in bed for a while, enjoying the lethargy, stretching and sighing. Instead of letting his worries crowd back into his head, he thought about going to Seireitei with Renji and the others from work. He sighed. Seireitei had been open for two months and Ichigo had not once gone there with his friends. Whether he was mourning or not, he had to reconcile himself to the idea and do it, if just to keep the peace with Renji. Already the redhead was probably suspecting Ichigo of depression … Renji was just good about things like that, intuitive, sharp.

Ulquiorra … when he'd been brought in after trying to kill himself, his blood alcohol level had tested out at 0.482%. That had given Ichigo a sour taste in his mouth for drinking to excess, and he hadn't really tied one on in ages. He knew for a fact that Ulquiorra's suicide attempt couldn't be attributed to an alcoholic haze: he'd just been through a very difficult break-up and had been sanctioned at work for calling off and, apparently, slacking off. It wasn't the alcohol that drove him to want to die, it was a broken heart, a broken life. The alcohol had just provided enough liquid courage for Ulqui to get the gun and do what he did. Ulqui ….

I know you guys would all be pissed at me for feeling sorry for myself and backing away from life, he thought. So, I'll go out tonight. And I'll try to have fun.

At precisely midnight, Ichigo was in line to get into Seireitei. Wow. Apparently the place was continuing to be extremely popular. The music pulsed out from the doors every time they opened, rousing dance numbers that got your blood going. He felt kinda weird being by himself, but he knew he'd meet up with the others inside, so it was all good. Ichigo was wearing a pair of low-slung black skinny jeans with a black studded belt, a tight white t-shirt that showed Twilight's Edward and Jacob kissing – the logo read, "Screw Bella". Over that he had on a black hoodie, with black and white Nike hi-tops on his feet. He felt surprisingly good.

After he got inside, Ichigo headed straight for the nearest bar and got a beer. It wasn't long before a tall red-head approached him, grinning from ear to ear. Renji. And god damn, he looked good. His hair was down, in all its vibrant crimson glory. He was wearing a pair of beat-up blue jeans with numerous strategically-placed holes and a pale gray hoodie, unzipped, sleeves pushed up his arms. On his feet he wore white Van's. Under that hoodie he wore nothing … his abdominal and chest tattoos on alluring display. Half-wondering if he could reneg on his decision to not have sex with his friend, Ichigo grinned back at him. "Jesus," he shouted over the music, "what, do you have me on GPS or something? Thought it'd take a while to run into you in this madhouse!"

"After all this time, ya still don't know that there's no-one else in the fuckin' country with hair like yers? It's like a beacon!" Renji grinned again and slung an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, beginning to steer him through the crowd. "Damn I'm glad ya came out tonight," he said, leaning close to speak into Ichigo's ear. "Thought I was going ta havta drag you outta your cave or somethin', buddy." He squeezed his friend's shoulders.

A loud screech over the sound of pounding bass … and they'd found Orihime and Tatsuki. The actual screech had come from Tatsuki … Orihime was generally too much of a lady to do something like that. "Ichigoooo!" the tiny woman yelled, and practically tackled him.

"Tots," he said, using his old pet name for her, "good to see ya," he grinned. "How's everything at school?"

"Fucking kids are such little assholes!" she yelled, rolling her eyes. "Why they aren't talented, brilliant, perfect angels like we were, I'll never know." She grinned, her eyes sparkling in her little pixie face.

Ichigo laughed. "Uh-huh," he said, exchanging a look with Renji. "Hi, Orihime," he said, looking at the auburn-haired girl next to Tatsuki. "Looking good, little sister." He smiled down at her. She smiled back, lifting a mimosa in a champagne glass, clinking it with his beer. She did look good, in a little white pleated skirt, platform sandals, and a hi-necked pale green and white halter top. Tatsuki was looking like anything but a school teacher in a pair of dark gray low-riding yoga pants that could have been sprayed on, with a matching hoodie-top, and platform sneakers. It suited her, perfectly.

"C'mon, we got a table over here … some of the others from work showed up. And, uh … try not to act too surprised," Renji said, eyes twinkling.

Oh, shit. What now?

XXX

He was so fucking pissed he just wanted to rip somebody's arms off. Or fuck them into the ground. Or both, and he didn't much care which one happened first.

Life was one big shithole right now, and he didn't give a good goddamn about anything. He was here to get drunk and fuck, and that was all. Normally, when he was feeling raw like this, he wouldn't come to such a crowded place, but hello – did he not just make it plain that he wanted to fuck something? Better odds in a huge crowd, better odds of finding someone even remotely attractive in this one-horse piece of shit town. There was only one reason he was back here. Otherwise, he'd had no intention of returning to this fucking burg, and wouldn't have even if his god damn life depended on it.

He'd walked in earlier like he owned the place and had looked around with a frown marring his handsome face, scoping the place out and already on scan for something fuckable. Women approached him after about 20 minutes and four drinks, but he wasn't looking for something soft tonight. He wanted it rough and tumble, with somebody tight and hot who could take anything he fucking dished out … and that meant a male.

But men seemed to find him difficult to approach. Fucking wonder why. Maybe because he was 6'1" tall in a country that seemed to run to puny-ass midgets? Maybe because he exuded an aura of dangerous 'I don't fucking care' and violence? Could it be because he was built like a brick shithouse and moved like he was king of all he surveyed? Or perhaps it was because his clothes cost more than some of these pricks' cars?

Whatever. He didn't mind going on the hunt, and actually tonight it suited his mood. He leaned his elbows on the bar, finished a double Jameson's on the rocks, and motioned to the bartender for another. "Keep 'em comin'," he instructed. He wasn't even halfway to being drunk, but he hadn't even fucking gotten started on the 'getting laid' part of the evening's entertainment. He didn't want to settle for a woman, goddammit, and it was already midnight. Mother fucker. It was making him more and more pissed off.

XXX

When Ichigo, Renji, Orihime, and Tatsuki got back to the table, Ichigo got his surprise. Rukia was sitting there, diminutive and dainty, sipping a mimosa just like Orihime's, only hers had a skewer-full of pineapple and strawberries stuck in it, next to one of those silly paper umbrellas. She was surveying the crowd and didn't see the group return at first, until Tatsuki plopped down next to her. Then she looked up, smiling … saw Ichigo … blushed crimson … and then hardened her face like she always did.

Aw hell, Ichigo thought. Here we go. Still not over it, eh, Rukia? Out loud, he said, over the music, "Hey, Rukia. Long time no see!" He smiled tentatively at her, trying to pretend they didn't have the fucked-up past they had.

"I-Ichigo," Rukia said back, coolly. "They said you were coming but I didn't believe it. But … here. You. Are." She was cute in a pink dress that hugged her slight curves, her black hair in that shoulder-length flip she always wore.

Renji stepped in. "All right, you two. Claws in, Rukia. The past is long dead, and you two have just gotta cut the shit and get along, goddammit." His handsome face was glowering with a frown, looking from one of them to the other.

"Yes, please!" Orihime squeaked. "Let's just all get along, like we used to … please?"

Ichigo looked at her, surprised and dismayed to see that she had tears in her eyes. He hated seeing Orihime cry. He looked at Rukia. "I'm all for that."

"You would be," Rukia grouched. "You're not the one who got her heart broken and was made to look like a total fool, in one go!"

"This is all old news!" Renji shouted, getting his mad face on now. "Rukia, you knew what the deal was, going in. Ichigo didn't do anything in bad faith." He rubbed the back of his neck. "All right, you two, sit down and fucking hash this shit out. We're all sick of trying ta keep you two apart and not bein' able to get together in a big group like we used to. It's enough! Now siddown, Ichigo, and get this shit settled! We're all sick to fucking death of it!" He pushed Ichigo into the chair to Rukia's immediate left – she shouted that that seat was taken, so Ichigo moved to the one to her right.

Roughly a year and a half ago, Ichigo had made (in his mind) the ultimate bad decision … he'd been drunk and horny and, wondering what the fuss was all about as far as girls went, went to bed with Rukia. Who better? He loved her, as a friend. It was supposed to be a 'sex friend' thing, but she had had ulterior motives: apparently she'd liked him for years and was going to give it a go. She'd hoped Ichigo was bi, and that they'd start a relationship that would last forever, off into the sunset, wedding bells, 2.5 kids, house in the burbs – who knows what all she had going on in that little scheming head of hers?

Ichigo hadn't known any of this really important information. They'd fucked, he'd barely made it through it (his gay-ness had only been reinforced by the little tryst!), and afterwards, when he'd told her sadly that it wouldn't happen again, Rukia had hit the roof. She claimed that he'd used her, humiliated her, that he should have known that she liked him … it went on and on. He'd never really gotten the chance to explain.

Then, about two months after it all went down, Rukia had disappeared. Gone to live in Tokyo, some said. Orihime knew a little bit but not much: yes, Rukia was in Tokyo, something momentous had happened to her, and she would be back eventually. But when she did return, she made it clear that she still wanted nothing to do with "that asshole using prick", Ichigo.

Now, Ichigo sat down with his beer and looked at the little woman he had considered one of his best friends. Her body language said it all – she was pissed and still feeling the sting. He was going to have to make the first move to try to rectify this. "Rukia," he began, and she turned to look at him, frowning. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I wasn't gay – and not for the first time! I love you, I do … but as a friend. It's all I can offer you. I'm sorry."

She stared at him.

"I know I shouldn't have done it. I was stupid. It was wrong. I wasn't using you, I swear it, but I know it hurt you, and I'm so sorry for that."

Silence.

"I can tell you that it all taught me a valuable lesson. I haven't done anything like that since, and never will again."

She took a sip of her drink and looked at him again, her frown lightening up perhaps just a tiny bit.

"As far as I'm concerned - friends don't fuck. It just ruins things. Just like it did between you and me. We were best friends, and now – I feel like I don't have the right to say I'm your friend at all. And that hurts."

"I … I've been hurting, too, Ichigo." Rukia stared down into the orange juice and champagne in her silly glass.

"I know."

Rukia looked at him … then hauled off and slapped him a good one, right across the face. Ichigo jerked back in surprise … and PAIN, Jesus Christ that woman could fucking hit! … and stared at her. The eye on the slapped side of his face began to water (it was a hard goddamn slap!). When Rukia saw tears begin to roll down Ichigo's cheek, her face crumpled and she grabbed him and hugged him, hard.

"I-Ichigo, I'm sorry too! I've missed you so much!" She started crying.

"Ohhhh!" No-one cried alone in Orihime's presence. She had her hands over her mouth, eyes swimming with tears.

"Oh my GAWD, can we please start partying around here?" Tatsuki sounded disgruntled, but she was grinning from ear to ear. Were the two old friends going to make it up FINALLY?

Ichigo hugged Rukia back just as hard as she was hugging him, eyes closed, a wide grin on his face. And this was the position he was in when a tall dark-haired man walked up to the table and sat down in the 'saved' chair on the other side of Rukia.

Ichigo wiped off his face and opened his eyes, still clutching Rukia, and looked up into the gorgeous gray eyes of Byakuya Kuchiki. Who smiled. Well, sort-of. One side of his mouth quirked up a tiny bit. Ichigo jumped and closed his open mouth. Holy fucking shit, what was he doing here?

Rukia disentangled herself, chuckling and blushing. "Sorry I hit you," she said. "I've been waiting so long for you to say 'I'm sorry' that I didn't think you ever would."

Pretty sure he had said he was sorry, like, over and over, Ichigo wisely kept his mouth shut. Was Kuchiki-sensei Rukia's … date?

Rukia noted Byakuya beside her, straightened up, smoothed her hair, and said, "Nii-sama, you're back." She smiled at him, then turned to Ichigo again. "Kurosaki Ichigo, this is my brother, Kuchiki Byakuya. I … believe you know each other from work?"

"Y-your brother?" Ichigo said, unable to take his eyes off of Byakuya. The man was stunning. No other word for it. His long black hair was down, but he had these … hair fasteners of some kind, that divided the black sleek mass into something akin to dreadlocks. It was different, attractive, attention-grabbing … Ichigo sighed. Just like the man himself.

"My family adopted Rukia," Byakuya said smoothly, picking up his drink and sipping it. His hands – surgeon's hands, long-fingered and strong-looking, beautiful. "She was a distant relative, but she was all alone … so we brought her into our branch." He gave her a smile … both sides of his mouth tilted up slightly this time. For the stoic physician, it was practically a grin.

Rukia smiled back at him.

Ichigo just stared. So that's where Rukia had been all this time. Tokyo, yes, but getting added to the Kuchiki family registry, meeting everyone, learning all about the family's holdings … wow. "You must be ecstatic," he said to her. "A family … it's what you've always wanted." He grinned.

She grinned back, nodding. She leaned across the table and said something to Orihime, but Ichigo didn't hear it. Or, he'd stopped listening. Something. Because he was looking at Byakuya. Looking at Rukia's new older brother, Ichigo felt his salivary glands activate. He looked fucking hot. He was wearing a black suit, of course, but the white silk shirt had the two top buttons undone, exposing the man's pristine skin and a glimpse of the hollow between his collar bones. A black tie hung from his neck, pulled loose at the knot. It was apparently as 'dressed-down' as the man could get. Ichigo stopped himself from drooling with an effort.

"Dude," Renji said in a low voice, from Ichigo's other side. "His wife is gone. They called it quits two days ago, and she up and left." Ichigo looked at Renji, who raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Threesome?" he teased.

Ichigo pretended to consider the idea while Renji's eyes got bigger and bigger … then Ichigo laughed. Renji punched him on the shoulder.

"Asshole!"

XXX

Great. Scared off another potential lay. He was just too fucking pissed off to play nice, even for a little while. The dark-skinned male had been eyeing him, so he'd bought him a drink, they'd established that "ohhh yeah" contact with their eyes, got a little handsy … but then he'd been too impatient, goddammit. He turned around at the bar, leaning back against it, cigarette dangling from his mouth, Jameson's in his hand. He scanned the bar. Maybe it was too fucking big. Too much going on, and with that omnisexual-whatever bullshit, it was too hard to tell who to approach. He didn't want to appear hard-up or desperate … and being impatient was going to work against him every fucking time.

He knew he should've just gone to a gay bar! Fucking hell. There was no lack of women approaching him, shit no, of course! When he didn't want pussy, they were all over him. Just his fucked-up luck. Par for the course, lately. He growled under his breath, gulped down the rest of the Irish whiskey, then held up his glass for the bartender to replace. It was only 12:30 or so. There was no need to get all fucking worked up about it, he had plenty of time.

XXX

Ichigo had spotted a cute little blond in the crowd. Ooh. Maybe he was in the mood to top tonight. Looking at Byakuya again, he sighed … yeah. Or maybe he was in the mood to bottom tonight. Or he could do both. In the same night. If it was sensei he'd do whatever he wanted!

Jeesh, Ichigo, calm down. He's straight. Don't go tying yourself up in knots over someone you can't have. Take a lesson from Rukia. Yeah.

So he looked at the blond, who was looking at him and then looking down at the floor, for all intents and purposes – blushing like a schoolboy. Cute. A slow grinding song came on, and Ichigo thought that it'd be just perfect for an introduction to Mr. Blond and Cute over there. "Gonna go dance," he told his friends, then finished his beer and stood up.

When he asked the blond to dance, he came straight into Ichigo's arms and pressed himself close. Ichigo wrapped his arms around the slight, younger man, and they danced slowly to the slow, bass-heavy song. His name was Jamie, and he was a half – his father was in the American military. Ichigo's alarm bells went off. Oh, sure, here - let me get physical with 'Sgt Strong's little boy' and cause an international incident. No thank you. So he just danced, bought the guy a drink, stole a kiss, then went back to his friends. Damn. Hornier than ever.

XXX

It was the orange hair that caught his eye, of course. Bright orange – could that shit be real? But who would – never mind. Every time you thought there was something people wouldn't do, someone came along to fucking prove you wrong. Orange was dancing with a little blond and he had a fit, toned body with muscular arms and thighs. Nice. Couldn't catch a glimpse of his face, it was buried in the blond's neck. Hmm. It was someone he could keep an eye on, that was for damn sure. If he was looking for someone tight and hot, he'd bet his last fucking yen that the orange-haired man would fill the bill.

No lack of hot guys here. But he didn't want to fight anyone for dominance, he wanted to make it god-damned clear from the get-go who was going to be in charge and on top. Grimmjow-fucking-Jaegerjaques, that's who. He slammed the rest of his drink and caught the bartender's attention for another.

XXX

When Ichigo got back to the table, he discovered that Chado had arrived, that was good … and he'd actually brought Uryuu with him. Wow … who woulda thought that tight-ass would loosen up enough to come down off his high horse and do some partying? Ichigo grinned at him anyway … they'd never really gotten along, but he could be civil with anybody. You learned how to do things like that when you dealt with patient's families all the time. At least on the night shift, it wasn't quite the ordeal that Chado had on the day shift, or Renji on afternoons. Or the weekend guys! Ichigo had it easy, comparatively.

Then his mood hit the skids when Dr. Aizen came in. He looked good – nobody could deny that. Where Byakuya found it impossible to dress down into jeans, apparently Aizen had no such qualms. His faded blue jeans and white polo shirt set off his tanned muscular arms and dark wavy hair. He had a nice body, it was true … but that wasn't quite enough for Ichigo. Not with everything he knew about the man.

"Ichigo," Aizen said, looking him up and down wolfishly. "Good to see you out and about."

"Thanks, sensei … good to see you, too," Ichigo lied, ever the diplomat. God … why don't you get tired and go home? Or why can't your beeper go off? Dammit. Talk about a wet blanket.

Orihime, clueless about negative vibes, began chattering away to Dr. Aizen and offered him a seat next to her.

"Ugh … talking shop," Renji grumbled, then smiled at Ichigo. "Want another beer?"

"Definitely. More than ever. Yes."

"You fly, I'll buy," Renji said, pulling a wad of yen out of his pocket. "Here … I'll have a boilermaker."

"Trying something new again?" Ichigo grinned, standing up.

"I read about them. Been around forever! Figured I'd try one."

"Okay. Be right back." Ichigo stood up, fought the urge to stretch since Aizen was there, and walked away through the crowd.

He was roughly ten steps away from the bar when he saw him. A big man with, yeah, he saw it right … blue hair. It was in that tousled, kinda messy style that looked like he'd just got out of bed … after a night of wild lovin'. He was leaning against the bar indolently, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. His white jeans, slow-slung and tight, outlined muscular, well-shaped legs that seemed to go on forever. He had on a pale gray button-up, unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to display veined forearms. His chest and belly … Jesus, Ichigo thought, and swallowed. He's fucking beautiful.

He angled his line of approach to where he'd hit the bar about two barstools down from the blue-haired hunk. Either he was alone or his date had left him for a while … either way, there was no harm in checking him out, right? A little closer? Okay, one barstool down from him. The bartender approached and Ichigo gave him his order. "Two mimosas, four Ichiban Sakuras, a boilermaker, and two double Jim Beam's," he said, tapping his fingers on the bar along with the dance beat currently blasting its way out of the speaker system.

Two seconds. That's all it took. "Yo," a deep rough voice said into his ear, breath ghosting along his neck, causing goose bumps to skitter down his spine. Ichigo turned his head to look into the most brilliant blue eyes he'd ever had the pleasure to meet. Beautiful. That was the only word good enough to describe them. Blue eyebrows angled up from them, and a wicked grin made them crinkle at the corners.

"Heh," Ichigo said, smiling back. Holy shit the guy was a fucking gorgeous man.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques," he said, leaning against the bar. "And you are …?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Well, Kurosaki-san," Grimmjow said, still grinning, eyes pinning Ichigo in place. "That's one helluva drink order. Which one of 'em is yours?"

"Beer," Ichigo said, tearing his eyes away, only to have them dragged back by a low chuckle. "What's so funny?"

"Yer hair … it's real, ain't it."

Ichigo grimaced slightly, but didn't get a chance to reply. The man – Grimmjow – continued, "I'd like to see if yer hair is that color all over." He took a drink while he watched Ichigo take in this comment.

He could feel the blush rise up in his cheeks. Fuuuck. Guy didn't waste any time, did he. The bartender had set the beers down in front of Ichigo and was getting the boilermaker together. "Trust me … it is," he said, not looking at Jaegerjaques-san. He could feel the presence of the blue-haired man, like a spiritual pressure of some kind (A/N – hehe), as he drew in closer.

"Prove it." He grinned when Ichigo shot him a glance. "I like the way ya look. I like the sound of yer voice. I think we could have a good time tagether, and I don't believe in wastin' precious time." He lightly stroked a finger down Ichigo's bare arm. "Mm … soft."

The bartender set the rest of Ichigo's order up on a tray and told him the cost. Ichigo dug for Renji's bills, extracting it from his back pocket. His hands were clumsy and he dropped some yen when fishing it out. He ducked down to pick them up, and stole a glance at the bluenet's crotch when he was crouched down. Clearly outlined by the tight white jeans, down the medial aspect of his upper left thigh … Jesus Christ. If that's how big it is flaccid, how big would it be when it was hard? He stood back up to meet Grimmjow's amused stare. Like he knew.

Ichigo paid the bartender and picked up the tray. "Nice to meet you, Jaegerjaques-san … I better get back to my friends."

"Friends? Not a boyfriend?" He gazed down at the orange-haired man, eyes intense.

Smolder alert! "Ah, no. Not … well, not really. I, um … well, it's hard to explain."

"I have plenty of time," slightly sarcastic, accompanied by a flash of irritation or anger, which was quickly subdued.

"Well, I don't. Sorry. See ya." Ichigo started to turn away, and found his arm grasped lightly by a strong hand.

"Put th' tray down. Come with me. I promise … you'll love it." It wasn't a come-on, Ichigo could tell the man was saying exactly what he meant and meant what he said.

"I …" I wish I could? Jesus! "M-maybe some other time. Sorry … I have to go."

And with that, Ichigo pulled away and walked back around the perimeter of the dance floor.

XXX

Orange hair. Golden-brown eyes, warm, unlike anything he'd ever seen. Taut muscles, fine ass, sweet full lips. Grimmjow wanted to grab him up, throw him on top of the bar, and fuck his brains out. Make him scream. Make him scream his name. He wanted to undress in front of him and watch his eyes when he got his first glimpse of how much Grimmjow wanted him. His dick twitched in his pants. Goddammit. Mother fuckin' son of a bitch. He wanted him. Wanted those lips wrapped around his cock. Wanted those arms wound tightly around his neck, those legs around his waist. Wanted to sink into him, slowly, to the hilt, buried in tight heat. He turned back to face the bar after he watched Ichigo walk away, then rubbed his face. Shit.

He got another drink and headed for the back door, deciding to cool his heels for a bit, have a smoke, decide on a game plan. He wanted to end up with the orange-haired man tonight, so he needed to calm down, think it over, and then put a plan into action. Grimmjow looked around after closing the Seireitei's back door behind him. There was a group of girls smoking to his left (they looked at him, giggling and whispering), so he went to the right. Clean place, for an alley. Grimmjow walked past a dumpster and some trash cans, making his way to a dark alcove. Maybe he'd hang here for a minute, or go for a walk … he chuffed out an irritated breath, then lit a cigarette. Fuck. The day's events tried to intrude on his thoughts, but he pushed them roughly away. No. No, he could worry about all that tomorrow. Tonight was for him. He needed release, he needed relief, he needed forgetfulness. And he knew where to get it.

XXX

When Renji, Tatsuki, and Dr. Aizen all decided to go out back and smoke a joint (Dr. AIZEN? Smoke a j? Holy shit!), Ichigo went with them. He didn't smoke weed, but wasn't one of those militant weirdos who would turn in their friends or scold them for doing something so relatively harmless. So he smoked a cigarette out there with them as they walked down the alley, toking away. Dr. Aizen said he'd been smoking off and on since he was a teenager – that he'd been involved in a gang of sorts before getting forcefully straightened out when his parents shipped him off to Europe to get him away from his 'low-life friends'.

Surprising, Ichigo thought. He could almost warm up to the man, and being drunk just amplified that sensation. He leaned back against the building, smoking, smiling slightly … thinking about Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. What a fucking stunner. All that blue hair … wonder if his hair was that color all over? A chuckle escaped his lips, and then he heard an answering one. Doctor Aizen stood right in front of him … and Renji and Tatsuki were gone. What the fuck? How long had he been day-dreaming?

"Ichigo-kun," Aizen said, his voice deep and throaty.

"Yes, sir?" Ichigo answered. Hey … wakey-wakey, this is dangerous! Alone! Dark alley! Drunk! Stoned Aizen! Get out of here! But the little warning voice went unheard. Doubly so when a hand stroked his dick through his jeans, as a warm body pressed up against his. "D-Doctor Aizen? Wh-what are you—"

"Be a good boy, Ichigo-kun," the older man slurred, rubbing Ichigo's cock with a skilled hand. He leaned against the handsome younger man, then captured his mouth, forcing his lips apart and slipping his tongue inside, thrusting it in and out, catching and holding Ichigo's attention while his hands worked to get that zipper down.

The next thing Ichigo knew, he was looking down at the top of Dr. Aizen's head. His boss was … licking his cock! What the hell? He … he needed to … aw, god, it felt so good … wait, no! "Doctor Aizen … please, Aizen-sama, stop!"

His only reply was a humming moan as the man engulfed Ichigo's hard member, all the way, until his nose was pressed into orange curls. Ichigo gasped when the man started swallowing around it. He put his hands on Aizen's head, wanting to push him away. He did push him away, only to have the older man take him all the way in again. "Aizen-sensei … st-stop, please … sir … nnh …." Fuck, it felt so good. How long since he had had anyone go down on him? Far too long.

But this is your boss.

Aizen was really getting into it now, sucking Ichigo's fully-erect cock, licking it, taking it all the way in, then out, then in again. "Sir, please … no more … ahh … hah …." Faster now. Humming with pleasure as Ichigo leaked seminal fluid, a hand on his balls, gently caressing them.

Movement caught his eyes. In a dark alcove almost directly across the alley. Someone coming forward … oh fuck … blue hair – blue eyes – looking right at him. Oh my gods, it was him! He … he was …

…

He was jacking off. Watching and jacking off. What the fuck. But it was too good, he'd been hard in an instant. Ichigo's reluctance, the older man's persistence, Ichigo's face blushing with unwanted pleasure … god damn. He envied "Aizen-sensei".

Being good and drunk helped, too. His inhibitions, never very strong in the first place, were gone. Well … in for a penny, in for a fucking pound. He stepped forward a bit, so that light from the distant streetlight would hit him. Ichigo's eyes widened as they saw what Grimmjow was doing, his long thick cock glistening with the fluid he'd smeared over it. Stroking it, thrusting his hips slightly, his eyes locked on Ichigo's. He mouthed the words, come with me, and used his other hand to splay his fingers on his belly, running them up onto his chest, up to his mouth, sucking on the index and middle fingers, holding Ichigo's gaze.

…

And that was it. There was no holding back now. Ichigo gasped when he read Grimmjow's lips, when he saw the long thick length of the man's erection … and when he put his fingers into his mouth, Ichigo spread his arms out along the building behind him, his head tilted back on his neck, and he gasped, "yesss … oh, yes," unable to tear his gaze away from the vision across the alley. The man was stroking hard and fast now, the muscles in his arm bunching, his head going back too … but he never took his gaze off Ichigo. "M coming … oh god … I-I'm coming!" A sibilant whisper. Ichigo pushed Aizen off his dick, the man fell backward, slightly dazed, looking up at the oranget, as Ichigo wrapped his fingers around his cock and finished by himself, stroking it out, staring at Grimmjow. "Ahh … ah! Yeah … oh yeah …." Turning slightly, cum shooting out, he gasped and moaned, feeling it all the way to his toes, pleasure shooting outward from his groin … god damn it was good!

Without a word, never once revealing his presence to the stricken Aizen, Grimmjow came, too, his body jerking with it, cum spurting out of his heavy erection, face contorted with pleasure, eyes locked on the other man. It took effort, coming silently, but he did it. Then he grinned wolfishly at the panting, nearly-sobbing Ichigo, tucked himself away and zipped up, then melted back into the shadows of the alcove.

…

Ichigo tucked himself away, too, and zipped up. He glared hard at Doctor Aizen, then started walking back toward the Seireitei back door.

"Ichigo-kun …"

"Don't, sir. Please." He sure felt less drunk than he had ten minutes ago. "I … I didn't want this … and I'm going to ask you … please don't approach me in this manner again."

"Kurosaki-kun … you liked it," Aizen said, getting back to his feet, an incongruous boner tenting the front of his jeans. He took a step toward Ichigo.

In the alcove, Grimmjow found himself taking a step toward that fucking "Aizen-sensei", one hand balling up into a fist. Then he stopped himself, wondering what in the fuck he thought he was doing.

Ichigo held up a hand. "I'm drunk … you're drunk and stoned … let's just say we let things get out of hand, and leave it at that." His voice was firm, although he swayed a little where he stood.

"I … " Aizen looked down at Ichigo. "I really do like you, Ichigo-kun."

"Sir … you're my boss. This can't be. I'd have to quit. And I don't want to do that. Let's just forget about this. Please." He took a step or two away. "I—I'll go in first. See you inside, sensei." Without another word, without a glance, Ichigo turned and made his way back into the club.

Aizen stood there for a few more minutes, staring at Ichigo's cum on the alley pavement. He bent down to look at it. Grimmjow watched, frowning. Was this guy some kind of sick prick? Fuck he hoped not.

But no, Aizen straightened up, smoothing his hair and wiping off his mouth. He both ways down the alley, mumbled something to himself that Grimmjow couldn't hear, then followed Ichigo inside. Grimmjow leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. He felt surprisingly calm, and even though it'd just been jacking, he felt satisfied. Ichigo.

Ichigo Kurosaki. We will meet again, have no fucking doubt of that.

XXX

Back at the table inside with his friends, Ichigo picked up his beer and downed it, only to have Renji plop another one on the table in front of him. Ichigo was in the process of making a huge dent in this beer, when he felt a light touch on his thigh. Sitting next to him on that side was …

… was ….

Byakuya Kuchiki. Ichigo almost spit beer across the table. A hot slick feeling slid around deep inside his pelvis. The hand squeezed, letting him know it was no accident, and Ichigo's abdominal muscles fluttered and clenched. Had he said earlier, 'when it rains, it pours'?

Yeah. Yeah he had. And yeah, it did.

He turned and looked at the older man, the older beautiful man. Kuchiki-sensei gave him one of those little smiles, and squeezed his thigh again, higher on his leg this time. "S-Sensei?" he whispered.

"What is it, Ichigo-chan?" he asked with that gorgeous honeyed voice, and Ichigo smiled back at him. Gawd.

But … that blue hair. Those blue eyes.

But … he'd wanted Byakuya Kuchiki for-fucking-ever.

But … aw, fuck it. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, anyway, right? He turned to Byakuya and put his hand over the hand on his thigh.

XXX

End Chapter 3

Ichigo Kurosaki the horn-dog! Lmao

More to come soon! Hope you enjoyed it.

Ahvienda