Ichigo wasn’t sure how this happened - no, that wasn’t
right. He knew exactly how
this happened, what he didn’t know was why. He’d been standing
there, blood mingling with sweat to stain his hair and dampen his
shihakusho, breath coming in pants, adrenaline coursing through him as
he held Zangetsu at the ready. Grimmjow stood only a few meters away,
just as bloodied as Ichigo, just as winded, but the manic grin never
left his face and excitement burned like blue fire in his eyes. Just a
moment, a second’s pause in the fury of combat, a second when
Ichigo licked a drop of sweat/blood from his lips, savored the coppery
tang, and Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed.
In the next moment, Ichigo found himself shoved back up against the
alley wall, Zangetsu yanked from his hand and discarded to fall with a
clatter alongside Pantera. Grimmjow was flush up against him, his body
holding Ichigo there as much as the hands gripping the front of his
kimono. Ichigo had the briefest glimpse of some sort of unholy
anticipation flash across Grimmjow’s face before lips smashed
down on his. Taken by complete surprise, Ichigo froze, eyes wide. All
he could see was a close-up blur of the blue shaded corner of one eye;
all he could feel was the harsh push of Grimmjow’s mouth against
his. Pushing, shoving, demanding something that Ichigo didn’t
understand - until a bite to his lower lip made him gasp in surprise
more than pain, and Grimmjow’s tongue thrust into his mouth.
Reacting instinctively, Ichigo finally found movement and bit down hard
on Grimmjow’s tongue. He felt the sudden give of thick skin right
before Grimmjow pulled back. He tasted blood that was too sharp to be
his, to be human. But Grimmjow was laughing, head thrown back even as a
trickle of blood made its way from the corner of his mouth.
"The fuck?” Ichigo
shoved at him but Grimmjow didn’t move, just kept laughing.
“Let go, you bastard!” Another hard shove and this time
Grimmjow shut up, but the grin he gave Ichigo was bloody and so hungry
Ichigo felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ichigo demanded, trying to
maneuver a leg up to kick Grimmjow away from him. But Grimmjow just
used the movement to push in closer, between Ichigo’s legs.
“Enough foreplay, Shinigami,” Grimmjow said, his voice low
enough to make it half growl. “Let’s get to the main
event.”
“Forep-what? The hell
are you talking about?” Ichigo felt his cheeks heating.
In answer, Grimmjow pushed against him, a rough shove of his hips that
left Ichigo no doubt as to what the Espada had in mind.
“Y-You’re-!” He face was burning now and there was no
way he’d ever be able to actually say it. It was bad enough that
he could feel how hard
Grimmjow was.
“Yeah;” Grimmjow pushed against him again,
“so’re you.”
Ichigo’s eyes went wide, humiliation rushing through him. If any
more blood rushed to his face he thought he might pass out. Then
Grimmjow laughed again and Ichigo narrowed his eyes, anger quick to
replace everything else as he snarled. “It’s just because
of the fight, you asshole! It happens sometimes!”
“Che. Whatever makes you feel better. Now shut up; I ain’t
interested in talking.”
And Grimmjow was kissing him again, hard and rough and his tongue was
in Ichigo’s mouth, hands sliding down Ichigo’s sides as the
force and weight of his body held Ichigo trapped against the wall.
He tried to fight, tried to push Grimmjow away, kick at him, bite
again, but he had no leverage and his struggles, and especially his
biting, just drew groans of pleasure and harder, deeper kisses. Then
hands were on his ass and Ichigo protested, cursed, muffled against
Grimmjow’s mouth. Ignoring him, Grimmjow lifted him up,
Ichigo’s back sliding roughly against the wall, skin scraping on
brick where his kimono had been torn and sliced during the fight. He
ended up at eye level with Grimmjow, height difference suddenly gone as
Grimmjow held him there, fingers digging into his ass, groin pressed
tight against his.
“Better,” Grimmjow muttered against his lips.
Ichigo grabbed hold of Grimmjow’s shoulders instinctively when
his feet left the ground, and it was the same instinct that drove him
to wrap a leg around Grimmjow’s hips. He didn’t even have
time to think about what he’d done before Grimmjow was kissing
him again and - oh hell, was he in trouble; Grimmjow moved.
Layers of clothing separated them but it didn’t matter; Ichigo
could feel it all too clearly when Grimmjow pushed against him. A hard
thrust that rubbed their cocks together, made Grimmjow give a rumble of
pleasure, scattered every thought in Ichigo’s mind.
Rolling thrusts of his hips, quickly becoming a steady, driving rhythm
that Ichigo couldn’t help but fall into. Grimmjow was still
kissing him, all but devouring his mouth, and Ichigo let him,
couldn’t do much of anything but let his head fall back against
the wall, let Grimmjow kiss him and grab him and just take him, because
all he could think-the only thing he could wrap what was left of his
mind around, was the incredible feel of Grimmjow thrusting against him.
He’d never been this hard. Never felt so hot, like his body was
slowly beginning to burn, to set itself aflame from his cock outward.
He’d jerked off, of course, and it was always more intense after
a battle, but never like this. He’d never had the feeling of
another body against him, pushing at him and demanding a response.
Never had another man’s cock pressing against his, rubbing and
thrusting and even if he could feel it through their hakama, could feel
that Grimmjow was only slightly longer than him but so much thicker, he
suddenly wanted nothing in the way.
Somehow he managed to get one hand to work, managed to unclench his
white-knuckled grip in Grimmjow’s shirt and shove it down between
them. He grabbed at his obi, tried to pull it loose, yanked in vain and
something resembling a whimper of desperation escaped him, audible even
with Grimmjow’s mouth over his.
“Yeah.” Suddenly Grimmjow’s mouth slid away from his,
across his jawline to his neck.
The movement didn’t stop, seemed to speed up, in fact, rubbing
harder and drawing a deep moan from Ichigo. He barely noticed when
Grimmjow’s hand left his ass, but he groaned in relief when that
hand hooked into both his obi and the top of his hakama and ripped
both. The constriction on his cock fell away with the material and a
moment later, another harsh ripping sound, and Ichigo cried out at the
feel of skin against skin. Hot and hard and both of them sticky with
pre-come. Ichigo closed his eyes, biting down on his lower lip as
Grimmjow grabbed hold of his thigh and shoved forward.
Thrusting again and again, harder and faster and it was all so hot between them, inside him, and
Ichigo heard loud grunts and gasps around them, knew they
couldn’t be Grimmjow’s because lips were on his throat,
teeth digging into his skin. He didn’t care. Didn’t care
how he sounded, didn’t care what marks Grimmjow left on him; he
only cared about the growing tightness in his groin, the feel of
pleasure racing through him and building, pushing so fast and high that
it had to give. He couldn’t take much more; it was too intense.
Grimmjow’s breath on him, his tongue rough and wet as he licked
up the side of Ichigo’s neck, his cock so thick and burning
against Ichigo’s, rubbing, thrusting, pushing and-
“Come.” An order, growled into Ichigo’s ear and fast
accompanied by teeth digging into the skin right below.
The bite - pain shooting down his neck, through him and it was
impossible to tell pain from pleasure and Ichigo screamed. His eyes flew open though
he saw next to nothing, just white shot through with red and black as
his whole body convulsed against Grimmjow, his cock jerking, come
shooting up between them. He only had the vaguest awareness of Grimmjow
stiffening against him, an animalistic roar close to his ear, but it
seemed so far away. Every bit of his concentration was focused on the
release thrumming through his body, snapping him taut as a bowstring
before letting him go to sink back against the wall, arms dropping
limply to his sides, utterly exhausted.
Grimmjow was gasping in his ear; his body, still pressing Ichigo into
the wall, still supporting him, was trembling. Ichigo wasn’t all
that steady himself; he suspected that if he’d tried to stand he
would’ve ended up on the ground. So he let Grimmjow hold him, for
just a little bit longer.
It was Grimmjow who finally moved, finally spoke some unknown time
later when they’d stopped shaking and breathing wasn’t as
hard to manage.
“Not bad, Shinigami.” He pulled back enough to look Ichigo
in the eyes. “But next time I want your ass.” He squeezed
hard and Ichigo hissed, wishing it was pain and not a stab of want that
went through him.
Laughing, Grimmjow let him go. Just released him and stepped back.
Ichigo had just enough presence of mind to unhook his leg from
Grimmjow’s waist and get both feet down before he fell.
Grimmjow hooked a foot under Pantera’s hilt and kicked upwards,
catching his sword mid-flight. Reaching to the side with one hand, he
ripped open a Garganta, his eyes never leaving Ichigo.
“See ya next time.” His smirk was wide and the look he gave
Ichigo utterly lewd before he stepped into the Garganta and it sealed
behind him.
“Fuck you,” Ichigo said to the air, letting his head thump
back against the wall with a groan.
His body was still tingling in ways he’d never imagined,
aftershocks drawing soft moans from him as he slumped there, heart
still pounding. He was a come-covered, sweaty mess; his hakama was a
shredded ruin and covered next to nothing. If he was very lucky, he
might be able to fashion something out of what was left of the legs,
maybe a make-shift fundoshi, but that wouldn’t lessen the
embarrassment he’d go through if anyone saw him. Bad enough
he’d have to face Kon when he crept back into his room; if Renji
or Rukia saw him.... Ichigo winced, shuddering at the thought of not
just the humiliation of them seeing him, but trying to explain just how
he’d ended up like this. Although, the how was at least straight
forward enough, it was the why of it all that still got to him.
He’d just had sex with Grimmjow. How? Easy: Grimmjow was a son of
a bitch and Ichigo was obviously an idiot. Why? Hell if he knew. Why
hadn’t he punched out the crazy bastard; why had he stopped
struggling; why had he gone along with it; why had he enjoyed it? But
most of all, why did he want to do it again?