Chapter 6 – Emotional Connections

Continuing on …

Warnings: yaoi, foul language, adult situations

I most certainly do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Ichigo finished massaging Szayel-san's legs and then put his limbs through the same range-of-motion exercises he'd performed on Shinji. Of course, since Szayel had only recently succumbed to coma, his muscles were still very supple. The exercises went quickly.

"He's not as muscular as he usedta be," Grimmjow said, looking on. "Since he started getting sicker, he quit workin' out and was sleepin' way too much."

Ichigo nodded.

As Grimmjow watched, he noted that his brother's state of arousal didn't change one little bit. The orange-haired nurse continued talking to Szayel about nonsensical things – current events, news of the day, a car he liked a lot but couldn't afford – keeping Grimm in the conversation, too, although he never worded questions or statements that would make the blue-haired male speak to his brother directly. Finally, Grimmjow couldn't hold back any longer. "Hey," he said, leaning back casually in the chair next to Zay's bed and gesturing at the comatose man's dick, "you ever, uh … y'know … get'em off? Like, relieve 'em?"

Ichigo shot him a look, but held his tongue. He pulled the blankets back up onto Szayel, smoothing them and patting his shoulder. Then he put his hands on his hips and turned to face the bluenet. "Jaegerjaques-san, there's a name for what you just suggested. It's called 'assault'. In direct answer to your question – no. I don't," he said, firmly, holding his temper at bay.

At least, you don't while they're here. Right? Ichigo turned to check on Shinji's condition, then went back over to his desk to chart. No reason to bring any of that up.

Grimmjow watched him go, then turned back to his brother. It had seemed to him like a viable question. If he had been in a coma and a hot nurse like Ichigo had massaged him into a raging boner, he'd want relief! Fuck yeah! Rather than lay there with a flagpole fuckin' tenting the sheets, itchin' to come. Then Grimm rubbed his jaw, considering it. It would definitely fall under the classification of a 'stimulus', wouldn't it? An … incentive to wake up? He gave a rueful smile as he looked at Zay's face. He looked very peaceful, and –

"Jaegerjaques-san … may we speak?" Ichigo said, turning around in the chair at the nurse's desk.

Grimmjow ambled over, sinfully gorgeous in the battered jeans. Bare chest, bare feet – Ichigo turned back around and accessed his email quickly, swallowing. Christ. He'd never seen perfection like that in real life. Seriously. Fucking beautiful.

"'Sup?" Grimmjow said as he approached, then leaned against the wall next to the desk, long legs crossed, hands in his jeans pockets.

"You are next of kin for Szayel-san, his legal advocate … there is a procedure Dr. Kuchiki wishes to perform, and I am to explain it to you and get your consent … if you decide to go ahead with it, I mean."

Grimmjow frowned, looking down at him. "No fucking trach."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You see—"

"And no fucking feeding tube through his goddamned stomach." Both of those things … they meant … they fucking meant that Szayel wasn't fucking waking up. That he was gonna lay there and rot. Fuck NO.

"Please," Ichigo said, holding up a hand. "We're not at that point. I'm not saying it won't happen … but we're not there yet. What Dr. Kuchiki wants to do is actually good news, if it works. Will you listen? Or Dr. Kuchiki will explain it in the morning and if you wish to continue, you can sign the consent then."

"I'm listenin'," Grimmjow said, frown still in place.

"Szayel-san has had the endotracheal tube in for three weeks, going on four. Dr. Kuchiki thinks he might be able to go without it, and doesn't want your brother to get too used to the respiratory assist. With your consent, tomorrow we will begin weaning him from the ventilator, with the purpose of removing him from it in a couple days – depending on how the weaning process goes." Ichigo looked up at Grimmjow, the consent form and a pen next to his right hand.

"Who does it?" the other man grunted.

"Respiratory Therapy and the nursing staff, under the direction of Dr. Kuchiki."

"I'd havta be here … for the tube comin' out."

"Of course."

"Gimme the pen." Grimmjow signed his name in a scrawling "G-squiggle J-squiggle". "Can ya read that?" he asked, handing both paper and pen back to Ichigo.

"Jaegerjaques-san, I'm a nurse. I read doctor's handwriting. I bet I could translate the Dead Sea Scrolls by now." Ichigo took the items back and opened Szayel-san's small paper chart, tucking the consent inside.

Grimmjow barked laughter. Ichigo looked up, smiling, and was stunned by the beauty that shone on the other man's face. When he laughed his eyes crinkled at the corners, the blue orbs glowed an even more ethereal blue, the shape of his lips and mouth … it changed his entire look and dropped years from his face. This alone told Ichigo how worried the man had been about his brother.

"Your parents … when will they be coming in?" he asked the other man.

"Tomorr – today," Grimmjow replied, glancing at the atomic clock on the wall above the desk.

"Perhaps they would like to be present for the extubation? If everything works out and we can do it, that is."

"I'll ask 'em, but my gut feelin' is yeah … they'll wanna be here."

"All right, I'll put that in the nurse's notes." Ichigo began typing on the laptop's keyboard, starting the notes which would include everything he'd done for the patients tonight, their reactions (if any – yes, including Szayel's state of arousal), and the conversation with Jaegerjaques-san with the resultant consent being given for the weaning/extubation procedure.

It took a while to get the two charts in order – Ichigo was no fool, these charts had to be absolutely perfect. They were the trail of his caring, the only means he had of showing that he was doing everything he could, everything necessary to make the patient's stay at 3C a therapeutic, successful one. They were his protection if he was called in for a deposition in a court of law (hadn't happened yet and he felt like knocking on wood every time he thought about it). "If it isn't charted, the nurse didn't do it." It mattered.

The door next to the desk opened. Ishida Uryuu poked his head in. "Ready for lunch, Ichigo?" He saw Grimmjow then, still leaning against the wall. "Your pardon," Uryuu said, entering and bowing to the blue-haired man.

"No problem," Grimmjow said, pushing off from the wall and moving back to his brother's bedside.

"Ichigo," Ishida said. "Lunch?"

"Sure. Thanks … just let me finish this note …."

"Sure." Ishida went to Shinji's bed, checking his condition and marking off his vitals. In the meantime, Ichigo had finished his charting and signed off, standing and stretching a bit, not noticing the blue eyes that followed his every move.

Ichigo gave report, then gave Ishida a light punch on the arm ("Ow! Asshole!" Uryuu whispered), then went out the door. Suddenly a hand grasped him by the arm, just above the elbow.

"What's for lunch?" Grimmjow said into his ear, breath puffing and stirring Ichigo's hair.

He swallowed. "I, uh, I have a bento."

"Got enough for two?" He pulled Ichigo to a stop in the dim hallway. "Or let me rephrase that, yeah? Let's have lunch, Kurosaki-kun." He'd pulled a button-up shirt on but had only buttoned one button, about mid-way down his abdomen. A pair of the hospital's guest slippers were on his feet … only these were a pretty pink, slightly fuzzy and, let's face it – cute. Ichigo looked down and snickered.

"What. You don't like my slippers?" Grimmjow grinned.

"There are men's slippers in the closet, too, you know," Ichigo said, looking back into the other man's face.

"Yeah, yeah," Grimmjow said, pulling Ichigo towards the elevators. "But these were the first ones I saw." He switched topics like a preacher. "Where's yer bento box?"

"Employee lounge fridge," Ichigo said, moving past the elevators and down to the lounge door.

"Ah."

Ichigo had a moment's disquiet when he remembered that this was a bento box that Ichimaru Gin had packed for him … so he had no idea what was in it. Oh, well … how much damage could a lunch do? Resolutely, he walked into the lounge and retrieved the box, grabbed two oolong teas from the fridge, and rejoined Jaegerjaques-san outside the door. "There's a nice park on the grounds … want to eat there?"

"Scared to be by yerself with me, Kurosaki-kun?" Grimmjow asked, teeth glinting in one of those grins.

"N-no! Just … there's no place to sit and eat on the roof." Forget that he ate up there almost every night that he was here alone. Oh, well.

"Lead the way," Grimm said, making a flourishing gesture with his right arm.

So lead the way he did.

XXX

Earlier that night, in Ichigo Kurosaki's apartment …

"Gin … Gin … c'mon, I wanna go back to bed. Put on Ichi's lucky pj's and come back to bed with me," Starrk whined, looking like a whipped puppy. "Pleeeaase?"

"Mah, mah … listen to you," Gin murmured, grinning, looking at his fiancé. "Just one more minute, precious, and then we'll go back to sleep." He finished the email he was answering, attached a document, sent it on its way, and then closed the lid on his laptop. "There. Done. Now … what was it you were wanting?" His voice thrummed with humor.

Starrk's handsome face, eyes drooping sleepily, looking up at Gin from the couch. "Jammies. Bed. Sleep."

"Come with me, then," Gin said, holding out his hand.

Once they were back in the bedroom, Gin stripped and put on the flannel pajamas. "There. Better?"

Starrk was naked, already under the covers. He lifted them invitingly and motioned for Gin to get in. Which he did, although with exaggerated movements, as though he was conferring a huge favor upon the brunet. "They are very soft, ne?" he murmured, his lips curled in his trademark grin, his eyes mere slits as he settled down on the mattress, under the blankets with his lover.

As soon as Gin stopped moving, Starrk was snuggled up close, wrapping his long arms and legs around the silveret, squeezing him tightly, kissing the side of his neck. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for coming here … for understanding … and for, um, participating."

"My pleasure, ne?" Gina replied, with a little pinch to Starrk's backside. "The God of Sleep is surprisingly cute. And obedient." He grinned. Starrk felt it against his hair. "But I think the cutest thing is: you, while you are here." He meant it. Starrk seemed to regress, sort-of, become more child-like. It was, indeed, extremely cute.

"Mmm," was the brunet's only reply, nuzzling his nose into Gin's soft, silky hair.

"Shall I show you, then? How cute I think you are?" Gin's hand slid down Starrk's back, lightly caressing his muscles, tracing the line of his spine. He felt the goose bumps that had arisen under his fingertips – Starrk had very sensitive skin. The brown-haired man shivered slightly as Gin's hand moved lower, tracing the curves of muscular buttocks, then dipping into the cleft between them. With his other arm, he pulled Starrk halfway up on top of him. "What would you like? Tell me."

Starrk lifted his head, looked down at his fiancé, and then licked his lips softly. "Can I be lazy? Can I be demanding? Can I be selfish?"

"You mean, like normal?" Gin's tight-lipped grin caused his eyes to close almost completely.

Starrk nipped his lips playfully. "I want your mouth," he said huskily, his voice deepening slightly.

"And mah mouth wants you," Gin growled, then kissed him with rising passion, parting his lips and sliding his long tongue inside, slipping it underneath Starrk's tongue, lightly fluttering against the soft tissues there. As they kissed, he used one finger to pet his lover's twitching anus, circling and caressing it. The evidence of Starrk's increasing desire pressed hard against Gin's hip, throbbing and flexing as Starrk arched his back, growling against Gin's lips.

Gin slid out from underneath his lover, nuzzling his goatee, kissing his neck and licking his right ear as he did so. He looked down at the long lean form of his naked fiancé, marveling at the incredible coincidence that landed him where he was today – engaged to this amazing man. He moved long brown hair over to the side and kissed a line from Starrk's neck to his left shoulder blade, hands caressing and mapping the musculature under smooth skin.

"Mmm, yes," Starrk murmured, by no means a quiet lover. He kept up a running commentary of exclamations, instructions, praise … it had come as a distinct surprise to the more-quiet Gin when they'd first gone to bed together. But now he doubted he could do it without it! "Your mouth is so hot …."

Gin just chuckled quietly and licked a long wet line down Starrk's spine as his hands kneaded the other man's buttocks. Gods, he loved Starrk's ass. Perfect. Not a sissy girlish ass, it was definitely a man's butt, twin muscular globes under the twin divots on each side of the base of his spine. Sexy. Hot. Perfect. Sliding his tongue further, Gin began to lick at Starrk's puckered entrance, like he was lapping up ice cream. Lick, lick, lick, lick, over and over, knowing that the sensation was amping up with each touch of his tongue. It was something that Starrk liked very much. And Ichimaru Gin always did what Starrk liked. Even as he searched for new things to add to the list.

"Ahh … that's so good," Starrk said into the pillow, arching his back, lifting his rear up. "Mmm …."

Gin spread his cheeks and dove in, wriggling his tongue inside, forcing his way past the sphincter, sliding it in as far as it would go. Once in, he slid a finger in, too, until Starrk relaxed around the intrusion enough for him to tongue-fuck his ass. Which he did. Until Starrk was matching his rhythm, slowly moving his hips in such a way that Gin knew he was rubbing his hard cock against the mattress below him. Finger out. Tongue-fucking that gorgeous ass. Gin was as hard as a rock. Again. He held back from humping Starrk's leg, but had to use all his self-control to do so. It was Starrk's turn. His would come later. He knew that.

He sucked on that delicate tissue, too. Gin knew just what to do to work Starrk up to a fever pitch, and nothing was taboo. Nothing. If Starrk wanted it, he would do it. His lover was now arched even further, up and off the mattress, so Gin reached around and slowly ran a finger along Starrk's hard length, touching lightly without warning, causing his lover to utter a short "uhn!" of surprise. He shoved his tongue all the way inside, wriggling it, until his nose was pressed against Starrk's backside, at the exact moment he grabbed that long hard cock and stroked it ruthlessly, spreading pre-seminal fluid back from the dripping head, slicking it up and making his lover moan.

Suddenly he flipped Starrk over onto his back, enjoying the look of surprise in those brown eyes, and fell on top of him. Latching onto a tan hard nipple, he bit harshly, flicking the trapped nubbin with his tongue, even as he pressed his arousal against Starrk's. Sensation. Warring sensations of pleasure, meant to overwhelm and torment, hands moving, one pinching the other nipple, the other reaching up and sliding two fingers into Starrk's mouth. Gin excelled at love-making like this. It was like being in bed with two or three people, he could multi-task like a fiend.

When he stopped everything, that too was part of it. After all he'd been doing, the sudden cessation of sensation was like a little torture. Starrk gasped and then moaned, shaking with desire. Gin loved seeing him look like this. "Mm," he said in his silkiest voice, "what do you want?"

"Gin! You … fucking … you …."

Gin laughed softly and flicked his tongue on the nipple he'd just been biting, then he sucked it hard, like he expected to get something out of it, like he was hungry and needed it, sucking the whole thing into his mouth with enthusiasm.

"Ah! Gin … God! …." Starrk grabbed his dick and was stroking it hard and fast. Gin smacked his hand away, forcing him to stop, taking him by the wrist when he reached for it again.

"Mine."

"Ah … nn! Yess … yours," Starrk muttered, eyes closed, expectant. He laced his fingers into Gin's hair and pushed his head down. He needed it now, the teasing had him worked up to a fever pitch and he wanted it now.

Not one to withhold anything from his precious one for long, Gin dipped his head and gave Starrk's dick a long salacious lick, from top to bottom and back again. He kissed it softly, then with more pressure, then with utter abandon. He loved Starrk's cock, he loved doing this … and it showed. He knew what Starrk liked after all the blowjobs he'd given the man, and he loved to please him.

Nibble at the base, then lick it with a long flat tongue, like it was the world's most delicious popsicle. Suck at the slightly creased spot on the underside, where that delicious "arrow" pointed up to the slit. Lick and suck around the rim of the head, now flared and dark with desire, oozing fluid, twitching under his ministrations, throbbing and pulsating against his lips and tongue. Nip with the lips, all the way down the long length, then sucking kisses back up again. Flutter the tip of his tongue around the slit, slide it in as far as he could, purse his lips and suck at the hole, drawing out the fluid there, swallowing it with vocal pleasure.

Starrk loved it. He tried so hard to watch, because watching Gin in action, his expressions as he serviced his lover – it was amazing. But his head kept falling back, the pleasure made a hedonist out of him, he could really just lay there, trembling and twitching, trying not to thrust his cock down Gin's throat. He'd managed to find a man who gave the best, most selfless, skillful head he'd ever had. (And that was really saying something. People always wanted to get their hands [or mouths] on Starrk's dick.) It felt so good, but he was dying to have his cock down Gin's throat! "Ah! Haa! Gin!" He wanted to shout, suck me goddammit! But it felt so good!

He wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Gin took the decision out of his hands. He took the head in his mouth, sucking enthusiastically, sliding his tongue all over it, humming happily. He opened his eyes and looked up at Starrk, who jerked spasmodically in reaction. Then slowly, inch by delicious torturous inch, Gin began taking that long luscious cock into his mouth and down his throat, still sucking and slathering it with his tongue.

Amazing. Fucking amazing. Starrk watched, eyes wide, fighting himself, wanting to grab Gin's head and thrust into his mouth, over and over, until he came deep down in the man's throat. His cock flexed as the thought ran through his mind … again. Gin winked … as though he knew exactly what Starrk was thinking. Hell, he probably did!

Without a single gag, Gin took in his lover's hard member until his nose was pressed solidly against Starrk's pubic bone. He swallowed around it, over and over. One hand snuck between them and grasped Starrk's tight scrotum, squeezing it almost to the point of pain … the other hand slid a damp finger inside his still-twitching ass, sliding all the way in to the knuckle, searching, wiggling. "Ah! Gin! Nn, hah!" Starrk was shaking, his knees came up, his hands tangled in silky silver hair. "Gin, please! Ah ahh!" He slid a foot up Gin's leg and began massaging his dick through the lucky pajama bottoms. Coercion had worked before … perhaps it would now.

He was right. Gin came up off his dick with a gasp, his head thrown back, reacting with moaning pleasure as his dick was finally touched. He began thrusting his finger in and out of Starrk's ass, adding a second when the tense ring of muscle relaxed. "Yeah," he moaned, more like a growl, as Starrk increased the pressure, and then he took over on it himself, humping Starrk's leg shamelessly. In the pursuit of pleasure, Gin had no limits, no embarrassment. Starrk loved it.

Suddenly his dick was engulfed in hot wetness again as Gin got down to business. Suck the head, sliiiide it all down his throat, swallow swallow, then back up, kiss kiss, back down – a slow torturous rhythm, one that had Starrk's hips rocking in time. Little by little Gin sped up, increasing the pressure of his lips, sucking harder, swallowing hard, throat muscles working against that rock-solid cock. Ten inches of throbbing muscle slid in and out of his mouth, beautiful, it was such a turn-on to feel that intrusion, almost better than getting fucked by it. Almost.

"Gin … Gin! I'm gonna! Gin I'm gonna ….!" Starrk's voice was harsh but thrumming with pleasure as he couldn't help it any more, he began thrusting his hips, holding Gin's head by the hair, two-fisted, fucking his lover's mouth, his self-control was gone, he could no longer hold back, it was too good! Too fucking good!

Gin held still in his lover's grip. Eyes closed, he breathed when he could, hummed his satisfaction with Starrk's actions and reactions, let him ravage his throat. Whatever he wanted. It was as simple as that. But at the same time, it was all such a fucking turn-on that he couldn't help himself either – he was stroking himself off, a hard fast rhythm that matched the one Starrk had going in his mouth. FUCK it was good.

"C-coming! Gin … I … I love you! Love you, Gin! AH!" He pulled Gin's hair as he rammed his cock home, buried to the hilt in Gin's mouth, his dick pulsated as cum spurted over and over. He shook and groaned with it, so good, god damn, it was amazing, the pleasure shot out from his pelvis in waves that lanced upward and outward. "Ah yeah! Nn nn NN!"

It was Starrk's orgasm and his reactions to it that sent Gin over the edge. So demanding and selfish in his pursuit of pleasure, it was such a turn-on … the silveret's body seemed to bunch up and hold itself steady for a trembling second or two, and then he shook, hard, muscles clenching and unclenching as his cock spasmed and flexed in his hand. Ohh, yeah … white-hot pleasure flooded outward, making his toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head as he sucked his lover's cum down his throat, the asphyxiation adding to it, amplifying it. Feed me, beloved. I need this. I need you. Always. Forever.

…

Afterwards, they lay in Ichigo's bed together, holding each other, kissing and stroking with languid hands. That they were both cuddlers was a bonus each appreciated with the utmost in hedonism. It was after a passionate kiss that threatened to ignite into another round that Starrk said, lazily, "hey, Gin."

"Yeah?"

"Been meaning to ask you … what did you put in Ichigo's bento? You wouldn't let us look."

Gin chuckled darkly. "Hope he's eating alone tonight."

XXX

The park was deserted at this late hour … not too many park-goers at 3 a.m. Ichigo and Grimmjow found a picnic table near a globed light and settled down across from each other, putting out the cigarettes they'd smoked on the way from the facility. Bottles of oolong tea plunked down onto the tabletop, then Ichigo unwrapped the bento box and opened it. His cheeks immediately flared red. "That son of a …."

Grimmjow looked at him curiously, then looked down into the box. His eyes widened, then he roared laughter. "What in the hell? Dude … "

"Shut up," Ichigo muttered in reply. That bastard, Gin … he should've known the silver-haired man would do something like this. Onigiri (rice balls) that really were shaped like balls – like scrotum balls – each with a carved sausage sticking up from them, carefully worked to look like a hard penis. Three of them, nestled together in a bed of salad. One of the sausages was very large – that must be Starrk, Ichigo thought helplessly, looking at it with dismay.

"Jesus Christ … what's inside of 'em?" Grimmjow said, still chuckling. "I'm almost afraid ta ask."

"Shut up," Ichigo repeated. He was almost afraid to find out! He picked up one and squeezed it gently, wincing when a white cream smooshed out around the base of the … er, the penis-sausage. He touched it with a finger and tasted it, expecting the tart taste of cum, illogically, but was pleasantly surprised to find it was a white mayonnaise-based sauce. "It's safe," he said, blushing, eyes flicking up to look at Jaegerjaques-san.

Who was grinning. "If ya didn't know what was in 'em … then who the hell made this for ya?" While he was still smiling, the tone was slightly … dangerous.

"My friends … the ones who visited me, that I mentioned earlier. Remember?"

"Uh-huh. Friends, huh? Must be close friends." Grimmjow picked up one of the onigiri genitals – it was the Starrk-ish one – and bit into the, er, the scrotum. "Hmph. S'good, at least." He chewed thoughtfully. People who made shit like this for you weren't just 'friends'.

Ichigo picked up one of the remaining onigiri and bit into it. The sauce was tangy and contained bits of tuna. Ha ha, Gin, he thought. Very fucking funny. He felt terminally embarrassed, like his face was going to spontaneously combust.

"Explain." Grimmjow's tone brooked no refusal. His eyes were latched onto Ichigo as he took another bite of the rice ball, the stare was … territorial?

Ichigo looked back at him as he chewed. He shook his head, not in a refusal-way, but in an I-can't-believe-this way. He looked away, then, and didn't catch the intent stare focused upon him when he put the 'head' of the sausage into his mouth, or the wince when he bit it off.

"C'mon … it can't be that bad, right?"

"I don't know you. And it's a long story, one that I don't have the time or the inclination to share." Ichigo's voice was firm.

"I already watched ya gettin' sucked off by yer boss in an alley," Grimmjow said gruffly. "And then we came tagether … I'd say we're on our way ta gettin' ta know each other pretty fuckin' good. Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo sighed in defeat as his cheeks flamed again. Fuck. "Look … we're just friends. Starrk was engaged to a former patient of mine, and we became … close. He came over to visit yesterday and brought his new fiancé with him. This guy has a weird sense of humor, that's all." He finished the penis-sausage, licking his fingers afterward. No napkins in the bento box … Gin probably did that on purpose, imagining Ichigo having to lick his fingers after eating the little dick-sausages. Bastard.

"Weird sense of humor."

"Yeah."

Grimmjow grunted in reply. He finished off his onigiri too, then gestured at the last piece. "You want the dick or the balls?"

"You pick."

"I'll take the balls. You look like the kind who likes to take the dick." He grinned savagely, pulling the sausage off the onigiri and leaning over the table with it. "Say 'ahh'."

"You - ! I - !" Ichigo sputtered to a stop. What a fucking prick! But he was a family member! Professional! Goddammit!

Grimmjow waved the penis-shaped sausage in front of Ichigo's face. "Come on … ya know ya want it. I'll give it to ya. Open that mouth." Suddenly he was no longer smiling. His eyes were glued to Ichigo's lips.

The night seemed to become very quiet. Ichigo stared at the sausage that was dangling in front of his face. He refocused his eyes on the bluenet's face beyond it and licked his lips thoughtlessly. He opened his mouth, saying softly, "ahh." Grimmjow leaned in, traced the little head of the penis-sausage on Ichigo's lips, smearing grease lightly on that luscious mouth, then slipped the sausage inside – only to take it back out again. Then he did it again. And again.

Ichigo was mesmerized by the man's eyes. They were intent on Ichigo's mouth, blue brows furled slightly in a small frown. When the sausage entered his mouth again, Ichigo closed his lips around it and sucked, freeing it from Grimmjow's fingers. He lowered his eyes and bit into it, chewing with painful embarrassment.

"God damn," Grimmjow breathed. He stood up. "Look whatcha did to me." He pulled the shirt away and exposed his hips … the front of his jeans showcased a nice-sized bulge which flexed when Ichigo couldn't help but look at it. He stopped chewing, lips parting, staring. Slim hips encased in battered blue jeans, arousal apparent in the best way. He watched helplessly as Jaegerjaques-san leaned forward and slid his jeans-clad erection against the table's edge, up, down, up, down, letting out a small groan as he did so. Ichigo was mesmerized yet again, food forgotten, as he watched the sensuous display. Ohh, this man was dangerous.

"Y-you … stop that," Ichigo rasped.

"Can't. Feels good. C'mere, let me show ya how good it feels," Grimmjow growled. When Ichigo didn't move, he swiftly came around to Ichigo's side of the picnic table, straddled the bench seat, and buried his hands in soft orange spikes. He groaned at the feel of that amazing hair. He pulled on it, making Ichigo look up at him. "God, yer sexy," he muttered, looking down at Ichigo's shining lips, his half-lidded eyes, the blush on his cheeks.

"L-let go," Ichigo whispered, half-heartedly. If there was one thing he liked (craved!) above all others, it was this: submitting to a strong male, the decisions taken out of his hands. He, who ran things all night at work, who was responsible for making decisions about his patients and their care, who had to run things at home and make all the decisions there, too – it just felt so good to give in and let someone else "be the boss". (Maybe that's another part of the reason he'd let Aizen do what he'd done at Seireitei.)

Grimmjow could smell a submissive a mile away. "No," he said, softly but firmly. He leaned in and pressed his clothed erection against Ichigo's cheek, rubbing it there, back and forth, back and forth. He slid his fingers through Ichigo's hair, massaging his scalp, caressing his ears. No need to hold Ichigo's head steady against his groin, the other male would stay still for him, he could tell. He turned his hips slightly and pushed his erection against Ichigo's lips, again softly but firmly. "Kiss it," he said, gruffly.

A slight hesitation. Grimmjow pressed forward again. Then, softly, kiss kiss kiss. Lips pressed against the fly of his jeans, cheeks flaring red.

"Good boy," Grimmjow muttered, a grin spreading across his face. He watched as the oranget kissed down the length, pressing those luscious lips to his erection which twitched steadily under the attention. He freed one hand from orange spikes and unzipped his fly. "Keep going," he directed.

He went commando. Ichigo looked up at him, pupils dilated, panting breaths from between parted lips. Then he leaned forward and laid his lips on Grimmjow's naked cock. A harsh breath drawn in above him, a tightening of the hands in his hair. Kiss kiss kiss. It was hot. Hard muscle encased by silken flesh. In his scrubs, his own dick clamored for attention, pulsating and straining inside his underwear. God.

Two seconds later, he found himself on Grimmjow's lap, his scrubs undone, his cock out and pressed deliciously up against the blue-haired man's. "Closer," the male said, pulling him in tighter. He gripped Ichigo's ass cheeks and squeezed, making the oranget gasp and straighten, arching his back. "Get us off," Grimmjow growled. "Together." With the last word, he pressed Ichigo against him again, making their dicks slide together. Both men groaned in reaction.

Ichigo reached down and grasped both their erections in his fist, immediately starting up a steady tight stroking rhythm, mixing their pre-seminal fluid together and getting all slippery. He was gasping with pleasure, the other arm around Grimmjow's neck, hanging on for all he was worth.

"Good boy," Grimmjow said, looking up at him, squeezing Ichigo's buttocks again. "Feels good."

Nothing like knowing you were pleasing a dominant to make a submissive's heart pound. Ichigo groaned in reaction, giving in completely when a strong hand joined with his on their cocks, and when the other tangled in his hair, pulling his head down for a fierce kiss. Jaegerjaques-san worked more of that mouth-magic on him again, taking possession of his mouth with lips and teeth and tongue, leaving Ichigo a trembling wreck on the verge of coming … already!

"Yeah," Grimmjow said against his lips. "You wanna come for me?" His hand over Ichigo's forced the rhythm to a stop while he waited for his answer.

"Y-yes! Please!" Ichigo was on the edge … one more stroke, one more kiss, and he'd go off like a rocket.

"That's all I wanted ta hear," Grimmjow said. "Go ahead. Come for me. Say … my … name!" With the last three words he stroked and squeezed, making Ichigo's hand move with his … and dove his other hand down inside the back of Ichigo's scrubs, pressing against that twitching pink hole, rubbing it, laying claim.

"Yes! Ah! Nn nn … Gr-Grimmjow! Ah, yes, Grimmjow!" His back arched, his muscles clenched, his arm tightened around Grimmjow's neck … and his insides promptly exploded in pleasure.

Grimmjow popped off right along with him. Tomo had been the only person to ever top Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, and it'd only been that one time. He'd known afterwards that he was seme through and through … and slipping into the dominant role was as natural for him as breathing. Nothing turned him on like a strong man giving him control. He rode out his orgasm almost silently, watching and listening to the gorgeous oranget in his lap, groaning in pleasure as cum spurted out and mixed on their hands. Marked you, he thought. You are gonna be mine, Kurosaki-kun … mine and no-one else's. "Mm, good," he said as it wound down. "Fuckin' good."

Ichigo gasped in his lap, collapsing against him, beginning to come back to reality in a big way. What in the fuck was he doing? He … he just couldn't help it. The man was too handsome, too sexy, too arrogant, and forceful in going after what he wanted. Killer combination as far as Ichigo was concerned.

Grimmjow whipped off his shirt and cleaned them both up. Ichigo stayed planted in his lap while he was carefully wiped off … his now-mostly-flaccid penis (obviously getting ready for round two) was tucked away inside his boxer briefs … his scrub pants were re-tied in place. He couldn't look at Grimmjow. Finally the cleaning-up was done and he tensed his muscles to get up, but two strong arms came around him and held him firmly in place.

"It was good, yeah?" that soft deep voice asked.

Ichigo nodded against Grimmjow's neck. He felt like a little kid, or a virgin, or something. Strange.

Lips against his hair. Against his ear … then his neck. Ah, gawd … kissing and nuzzling and holding after sex … another thing Ichigo was weak against. Not to be used for an orgasm and then left to get through the aftermath on your own, but to be coddled and caressed and treated like something precious … it went straight to … to his heart. Wait. Wait a minute. No room for this. It was not Ichigo's destiny to be "in love" like regular people … all his love was taken by his beloveds. This could not happen.

Lips softly kissed his jaw, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth … then carefully and lovingly kissed his lips as he was held tightly. A hand came up to cup his cheek, then lightly held his jaw while his mouth was thoroughly kissed. No. No no no. Ulquiorra … David … Ramon … Yuki … Ichigo began his litany, drawing on them for his strength. Sebastian, Leif, Timothy … he felt their strength flooding into him … Hayato, Keigo, Kira. With the last name, he opened his eyes and leaned back. "Thank you," he said, softly but firmly.

Grimmjow felt the change. And didn't like it one. Fucking. Bit. "Thank you?" he repeated, frowning. "What the fuck."

"Yes." Ichigo began untangling himself … but before he could say another word, his pager went off. He stood up and pulled it off the back of his scrub pants, then hit the buttons to light the small screen and read it. He gasped, eyes wide, and jumped away from Grimmjow. Without another word he turned and ran at top speed, back towards the hospital.

Grimmjow felt an arrow of fear lance into his heart. "Wait! Is it Szayel? Hey, motherfucker … is it SZAYEL!" He leapt to his feet and lit out after Ichigo, but holy shit that kid could run.

One word floated back to him: "No!" before he lost Ichigo on a curve in the tree-lined path.

Ahead, Ichigo was running like the devil was after him, heart pounding, feet flying over the pavement. The page was from Ishida, and it had read, "Shinji 911".

XXX

End Chapter 6

Hope y'all liked it! Sorry it took so long to get this up … work's been a bitch!

More to come soon!

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Ahvienda