Summary: He couldn't believe he was doing this. How was it that he always managed to get into these awkward situations? When Shuhei, a freelance writer damaged by his past is hired to interview an up and coming author, he never in a million years would think that he would have anything in common with the guy. After all, they're complete opposites…right?
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
-;-
It wasn't unusual for Shuhei to wake up and be so disoriented that he wasn't entirely sure that he was even in the right place. In fact, it was practically the norm for him.
But waking up in an unfamiliar bed, in unfamiliar territory didn't count.
Dazedly, the dark haired male pulled himself into a sitting position, feeling nausea faintly alert itself to him as he did so. Alright, so he was sick; had someone found him and brought him home with them or some such thing?
Almost immediately, an image of a blue haired, cerulean eyed male popped into his mind, quickly followed by the onslaught of memories that had been locked away and just waiting for him to wake up so that they could bombard him all at once. Gritting his teeth, Shuhei waited out the migraine that came with the usual memories and emotions, taking slow, even breaths so as to not aggravate his bruised ribs.
"I see you're not feeling much better."
Shuhei jumped, wincing at the sharp jab of pain in pretty much every limb in his body. Looking back up, he took in the rather imposing figure of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. The male's arms were crossed over a bare chest, as they may or may have not been the other day- yesterday?- and he was wearing a pair of comfortable looking jeans low on his hips. At the moment, one light blue brow was arched up above a matching eye, and there could be the slightest traces of a smirk lingering on his lips.
"Where am I?"
"My place. Don't touch anything."
Shuhei couldn't help but raise a brow, knowing sarcasm had to be oozing off of him at the moment. "And how exactly do you expect me to either go anywhere or touch anything when it's hard enough for me to breathe, exactly?"
"Not the point, kid." Grimmjow replied lazily, waving a hand before wandering back over towards the table and chair seated over in the middle of what he now realized to be the kitchen and living room area. Meaning that he was resting on a couch; not a bed like he'd originally thought. "Oh, and by the way. Some guy called Kira called for you. Asked if you wanted to meet up for coffee. Told him you weren't available."
Shuhei grunted, though the words that he did want to say lingered temptingly at the edges of his mind. It would only involve the most miniscule amount of effort just to let them slip from his tongue…but then again, he was positive that if he moved so much as one coffee mug out of the way, the mild politeness that the two of them were displaying would evaporate. So better not allow himself to cuss out this moron like he wanted to just yet. He could wait until he was safely locked in his own home to allow himself that luxury.
"So, you in a gang, or you got something a little fucked up going on upstairs?" Grimmjow asked casually, leaning against the table and raising one brow in a slightly mocking manner.
"None of your business."
"Actually, considering that I hauled your sorry ass home with me last night, I'd say that it is my business now, whether you like it or not."
"I never asked for your help." Shuhei snapped, immediately regretting it as his ribs protested.
"Yeah, well…" Grimmjow seemed at a loss for words. "It didn't seem like the right thing to do, leaving you back there in that alley."
"It wouldn't be the first time I've woken up in an alley with no idea how I got there." Shuhei muttered, slinging his legs over the side of the couch and attempting to stand. However, he found his path blocked by a solid six foot something frame of muscle and blue as he scowled in irritation. The fact that the blue haired male was a couple of inches taller than he was only served to fuel the growing annoyance that he was feeling, and as Grimmjow smirked, Shuhei growled.
"You should be in a hospital." The cerulean haired male stated lowly, crossing his arms.
"Why the hell do you even give a fuck? You've threatened me twice, and I'm not in the mood for this bullshit." Shuhei countered. "Now, if you're quite done, I've got an article to write for my boss."
Luckily enough, the second time he pushed by, there was no resistance, thankfully, and Shuhei honestly didn't give a fuck about what other people would see as he stumbled down the sidewalk back to his own home. Comfortable, safe, home. Where he could lick his wounds in safety and take a handful of pills to possibly dull the now very audible throb that his mind was currently enjoying torturing him with.
-;-
As the dark haired male finally shuffled into his own atmosphere, the remaining tension remaining in his shoulders simply evaporated; leaving him as merely exhausted rather than agitated as well. Sighing, Shuhei made his way to the answering machine, which was blinking that he apparently had several unanswered calls, and automatically deducted that they were probably from Matsumoto, Kira, and perhaps Toshiro. After all, it wouldn't be the first time the shorter man would call and double check that Matsumoto had actually managed to give him all the details. A little obsessive, maybe, but it was one of the quirks that he'd simply come to live with.
"You know, if you wanted to actually surprise me, you should probably stop leaving your mug out on the counter." Shuhei said wearily, turning to face Kira, who was seated comfortably on his couch, giving him a one brow look of vague amusement. Here, in this environment, it was hard to tell that the blond was usually a nervous wreck. Rather, he looked more smug than anything else, and at the moment a little disappointed. He seemed to make it his personal goal in life to scare the hell out of him by 'sneaking' into his home; not that it really was, given that he had a house key.
"You look like hell."
"Feels like it, too." He replied, heaving himself into his chair. The one that meant instantaneous death and possible combustion should anyone other than him sit upon it.
"You blacked out again?"
"Obviously. Otherwise I would have been home last night instead of being hauled off to some asshole's apartment."
That comment caused Kira to raise his brow again, this time in surprise. "Someone actually managed to haul your sorry ass somewhere without you having a complete and utter meltdown?" he commented dryly, shifting so that he faced Shuhei dead on. "Go on. Now I'm curious."
"God forbid you of all people become curious." The dark haired male rolled his eyes. "All you need to know is was that it was Jeagerjaques who found me. Hauled me back to his place so nothing happened to me. I dunno why, the guy's a complete prick."
"Huh."
"You're telling me." Shuhei snorted, getting back up and heading for the fridge. "Want a beer?"
"Too early to drink."
"It's five o'clock somewhere." He defended, easily twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long draught. "Besides, last night was one hell of a ride. I think I earned the right to drink at whatever fucking time it is now."
"And apparently you're still exhausted, because usually, you're an emotionless bastard." Kira murmured, resting his chin on the back of his hand. "Either that or something else is bothering you."
"I don't get it." Shuhei hissed. "The two times I meet the guy he threatens me, and then he does this. Why the hell would he do that for a guy he's met twice before in his life?"
"So it is bothering you."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Hey, no need to get so angry. I'm just worried about you. When I called your cellphone, some guy told me you weren't available. So I came here."
"Fuck." Shuhei groaned. "That ass still has my phone."
"Well, aren't you lucky?" Kira snorted, earning a dark glower from his friend. "Hey, don't give me that look; it's not our fault that he went through your pockets."
"I hate it when you have a point." Shuhei grumbled, slipping back down into his chair with his beer.
"I know." Kira grinned back cheekily.