Sex and Football

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Chapter 11

Ichigo wasn't sure what to say, but he didn't have to think about it, because Ulquiorra was greeting him.

"Kurosaki," he said, "it's nice to see you again."

The hostess was before them now, a gentle smile on her face as she bowed slightly. "Gentlemen, your table is ready."

She led them to the main area, Ichigo feeling dumbstruck as he followed. He was hardly aware of it as they took their seats and Ulquiorra directed the waitress to bring over a certain vintage of wine. After the waitress left,  Ulquiorra took off his hat and placed it on the seat next to him.

"It's convenient for hiding my identity when I'm in the city," he explained, "but it's impolite to wear a hat when dining."

Ichigo could only nod, a little dumbfounded. They were seated at a table for two in the corner, next to the wall of glass that looked out over the city. Ulquiorra was msitting on the cushioned bench that ran the length of the wall while Ichigo was in a chair opposite him. Ulquiorra looked the same as he did last time Ichigo saw him. Messy black hair, emerald green eyes, grey-white skin. There was the same non-expression on his face, lips turned downward just that little bit.

Ichigo wasn't really sure how he was supposed to act in this situation, considering Ulquiorra's relationship with Grimmjow. He wasn't even exactly sure he knew what Ulquiorra wanted from him.

"Urahara told me you were looking for an agent," Ichigo said. "Was that true?"

"Are you always so curt when wooing potential clients, Kurosaki?" Ulquiorra's words made it seem like a breach of etiquette, but his expression said he could care less. "I was hoping for a more pleasant experience before we get down to business."

Ichigo scowled. "What I don't get is why you think I'd do business with you at all, after everything you've done to Grimmjow."

The conversation came to an awkward pause as the waitress came by their table, armed with the bottle of wine Ulquiorra had ordered for them. She poured a small amount for Ulquiorra, who tasted it before giving his approval. She then poured a glass for Ichigo before topping Ulquiorra's off. They waited until she left before resuming the conversation.

"Your loyalty to you clients is admirable," Ulquiorra said, "but I'm sure you know that Grimmjow is hardly an outstanding citizen. I'd be sure to take whatever he told you with a grain of salt."

Ichigo's scowl only deepened. He took a swig of his wine, uncomfortable with where his thoughts were heading. It was true what Ulquiorra was saying. Grimmjow was a mess of vices rolled into one; he had painted himself the victim when it came to Ulquiorra, but that didn't mean that was actually the case. "So you're saying you didn't force him off your high school soccer team."

"No, I did do that." There was absolutely no remorse in Ulquiorra's eyes, on any other emotion, really. "But I had good reason. Grimmjow wasn't good for the team. He was hotheaded and had no respect for the coach. He only came to practice when he wanted to, and only listened to orders during games if he wanted to. I made no secret of the fact that I detested him, and I know that he hated me just as much. I was the complete opposite as him, after all: a dutiful student who upheld the rule of the schools, the rules of the football team."

Ichigo couldn't deny that Grimmjow might have been that way once. It was in fitting with his personality. But these days, Grimmjow came to practice, Grimmjow listened to what his coach said. He had grown up over college. . . maybe it was the fact that he couldn't play football in high school that did it, Ichigo didn't know, but he wasn't the same man. And even if he was. . . "So, what? You had him picked off because of a personality clash?"

Ulquiorra took a sip as wine, as casual as though they were discussing the stock exchange, and not some long-simmering feud between two men. "That wasn't the reason."

"So what was?" Ichigo was starting to think this was a waste of time. If anything, Ulquiorra was starting to just piss him off. This was obviously just a case of two boys not being able to get along, and the antagonistic feelings bleeding into their adult lives.

"He was sexually assaulting one of the lower classmen on the team. I couldn't let that slide."

An uncomfortable feeling came to settle at the bottom of Ichigo's stomach. So maybe Ulquiorra did have a reason for his strong dislike of Grimmjow. "It might have been consensual. . ."

"It wasn't," Ulquiorra said, his voice definitive. "Or are you saying you don't think Grimmjow's capable of doing something like that?"

But that was the problem. Ichigo was sure Grimmjow was capable of it.

"To be fair," Ulquiorra continued, "Grimmjow wasn't the only perpetrator. But he was the ringleader. Once he was off the team, every one else stopped and got in line soon enough."

"What happened to the lower classman?" Ichigo asked.

Ulquiorra shrugged at the question. "He stayed on the team. Played football. Without Grimmjow there, the team became orderly enough. That man used to be complete trash, and it seems like he hasn't changed much since then. Exactly how did you two end up sleeping together, by the way?"

Ichigo blushed as the memories flooded him. It was true, it hadn't been after the usual period of courtship. At any rate, that day seemed so long ago.

"To a man like Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said, "sex isn't just about sex. It's about control. Maybe you enjoy being controlled and used like some object, in which case I'll leave you alone. But the fact is, Grimmjow is your biggest client, isn't he? Maybe you have a hard time saying no to him because you think he'll break his contract with you."

"That's not how it is," Ichigo said, even as he realized that it was. At the very least, it was how it had started between them. But now. . . things were different now, weren't they? Ichigo couldn't even be sure. He was so used to Grimmjow, so used to the things they did, that he couldn't get an objective perspective on it. "And even if it was, what would you do about it?"

"Offer to sign with you instead. I have a higher salary and more endorsement deals than Grimmjow. Sign with me and break off your professional relationship with Grimmjow. You'll be free of whatever twisted contract Grimmjow has you locked into."

"Why would you do that?"

Ulquiorra looked off to the side, contemplative as his eyes scanned over the cityscape. "It just seems like the fitting thing to do. I  always felt bad that I couldn't intervene sooner when it came to Margera*. He was a sweet boy, and didn't deserve the experience he went through."

"And what exactly did he go through?" Ichigo asked. He was still hesitant to believe that Grimmjow had done something truly awful to his former teammate. "How can you know exactly what went on between them?"

Ulquiorra's eyes were sharp and clear as they looked back over at Ichigo. "I caught them in the locker room. Grimmjow and his friends, teaming up against Margera. It was excruciatingly obvious that there was no consent or pleasure there."

Ichigo shook his head a little bit before taking another gulp of wine. He had been drinking throughout this discussion, and was starting to feel a little dizzy. He never could handle his alcohol. "I still don't understand why you would give a shit about what Grimmjow's doing with me."

A flash of some glimmer of emotion flashed through Ulquiorra's eyes before it disappeared again. "I admit that I may appear somewhat. . . cold. I keep to myself, and because of that, the public seems to have a negative opinion of me. I'm not the type of person who would usually involve myself in the affairs of others, but I still wanted to offer you a way out, in case you needed one. The choice is up to you, Kurosaki. You don't even have to decide now. Take your time, my offer will still be standing."

Ichigo's glass was empty. Ulquiorra had been pouring him more this whole time, probably more out of habit and politeness than anything else.

"Let me ask you some things, Kurosaki. Do you want to be with Grimmjow? Are you happy with the type of relationship that you have? Because, if not, you shouldn't be in it."

"I don't know," Ichigo said, answering honestly. After everything Ulquiorra said today, he wasn't really sure of anything. He did enjoy being with Grimmjow, he knew that much. But was it only because Grimmjow had trained him to enjoy their sex play? Grimmjow wasn't a man that Ichigo was comfortable calling his boyfriend, and he wasn't a man Ichigo could see bringing home to meet his mother. If he wasn't Grimmjow's agent, if Grimmjow wasn't his client. . . would he still want to be with the other man? "I don't know. I have to think over all of this."

Ichigo pressed his hands on the table, pushing himself up. He could barely stand, though, could feel his legs shaking underneath him. But as soon as he was falling Ulquiorra was there, and the shorter man slipped an arm around Ichigo's back to steady him. Ichigo felt eyes on him, and hoped he wasn't causing a commotion in the crowded restaurant.

"You're drunk," Ulquiorra said. "I'll walk you to my room. You can sleep it off there."

"I shouldn't," Ichigo said, but he was already walking in tandem with Ulquiorra's steps.

"Are you worried I might try to take advantage of you? I would never do such a thing; I'm not Grimmjow, after all."

Ichigo nodded, too dizzy to defend his client. At any rate, going up to Ulquiorra's room was the best plan of action. He could lay down for a little bit, drink some water, and then leave.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go."

Ichigo let Ulquiorra help him to his hotel room. Once they were inside, Ichigo made a mad dash to the porcelain god in the bathroom, where he kneeled down as something rushed up through his body. Ichigo could taste the vomit on his tongue as he regurgitated all the alcohol he had just drank into the toilet. Ulquiorra came up behind him and brushed his hair back in a soothing manner, hands hot against his forehead. Ichigo couldn't believe that he was in Ulquiorra's hotel room throwing up.  What kind of agent was he. . .

"I didn't even have that much to drink," Ichigo murmured, wondering at his predicament. It was like he had skipped the whole being drunk part of drinking. . . he had gone from sober to sick in two seconds flat.

"Actually," Ulquiorra said, "you managed to finish most of the bottle while we were talking."

This was not professional at all. Ichigo wondered if he should apologize for his behavior, but then Ulquiorra was lifting him up and pressing a glass of water against his lips. He drank it gratefully. It actually made him feel a bit nauseated, to be honest, but he knew that his body would thank him in the morning.  Ulquiorra steered him towards the bed, where he all but collapsed into the mattress. Laying down made him dizzy, but if he could fall asleep before the urge to throw up caught up to him again, he could sleep through this part of being drunk. . .

Ichigo blinked open his eyes. This room was much brighter than what he was used to. The sheets felt different as well. Then he remembered. Ichigo shot straight up on the bed, horrified beyond belief that he had gotten drunk with Ulquiorra and then had fallen asleep in the man's hotel room. His eyes scanned the room. There was a blanket on the couch, and he gathered that Ulquiorra had slept there for the night. The man himself, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Ichigo got up and walked to the bathroom, intent on getting himself a glass of water. He didn't really have a hangover, but he was feeling tired and dehydrated. He didn't think a glass of tap water had ever tasted so good. When he went back to the main room he saw that Ulquiorra was back. The man was dressed in a sweatshirt and hoodie, skin flushed and damp. He must have just been running. He held a paper bag in his hands, and put it on the table.

"I bought some take-out. Rice porridge and miso soup. I wasn't sure what you liked."

"Actually," Ichigo said, "either of those sounds good right now."

While the thought of completely solid food made his stomach turn, something more soup-like was probably exactly what the doctor ordered. Ichigo took a seat as Ulquiorra took out two styrofoam tubs and placed one at random in front of Ichigo.

"Should I make you coffee?" Ulquiorra asked. "Or tea?"

Ichigo almost scowled at the suggestion. He had been enough of a bother to the other man, he really shouldn't impose any more than this. "I'm fine, thanks."

He peeled the plastic lid off the container, refreshed as the fragrant steam of miso soup hit his nose. Ulquiorra opened the other container, and they ate in semi-comfortable silence as they sat opposite each other.

Ichigo watched Ulquiorra from the rim of his take-out container. Now that he had spent more time with Ulquiorra, he had realized that Ulquiorra was actually a very handsome man. And for all his unpopularity, Ulquiorra was actually a pretty nice guy. It made Ichigo feel bad for disliking him, before, when he only had Grimmjow's side of the story to go by.

"Are you feeling well?"

Ichigo nodded. "Yeah. I feel fine enough. Thanks, by the way."

"It's my responsibility," Ulquiorra noted. "I was the one who kept refilling your glass."

"Yeah, well, thanks all the same."

Ulquiorra was staring at him with an unreadable expression. But then, everything about the guy was unreadable. It seemed like he had a poker face by default.

"I know that you haven't had much time yet," Ulquiorra said, "but have you given any thought to Grimmjow?"

Ichigo frowned. He had, a little bit, while they had been eating. He hadn't thought too much about it though, because. . . "I don't think I should come to any conclusions without hearing what he has to say first. Whatever he is to me, he's not just a client. I need to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"You're so loyal."

There was a tiny upward twitch to Ulquiorra's lips, and Ichigo stopped eating for a moment when he saw it. And here he thought Ulquiorra didn't show any emotions. The smile looked. . . good on him.

"You're an interesting man, Kurosaki Ichigo. I don't think I'd mind having you as my agent at all."

"Huh. Umm. . . thanks." Ichigo didn't know why he was feeling knots in his stomach all of the sudden. Ulquiorra's mouth was still set in the tiny smile, and it was hard for Ichigo to concentrate on anything else. At any rate, he was done eating his soup, and he figured he had imposed on Ulquiorra for long enough. "I should get back to my place. Thanks for everything."

Ulquiorra nodded as Ichigo got out of his seat, then walked him to the door. "I took the liberty of slipping my card into your wallet last night. Feel free to call me, for whatever reason."

Ichigo could only nod and say goodbye.

About an hour later, Ichigo was opening the door to his small apartment. He could hear that his seldom used television was on and stepped forward to see Grimmjow laying on the couch, flipping through the channels. He had probably spent the night here, as usual, and this was another day off for him.

"I didn't know what time you'd be back," Grimmjow said, without looking up from the television, "so I picked up an extra order of pancakes for you when I went to get breakfast. It's in the refrigerator."

"Oh," Ichigo said. "Thanks."

"How'd the meeting with the potential client go?"

Ichigo wondered when the two of them had started to have actual, normal conversations. When had it stopped being just about sex. . . and why hadn't Ichigo noticed? Thinking back, the day they spent skiing together in Sendai had pretty much been a traditional date. Really, Ichigo realized, they were in a fairly traditional relationship, extremely untraditional sex notwithstanding. For some reason it made Ichigo feel prickly and uncomfortable. When had he started enjoying Grimmjow's company so much?

Ichigo walked over to the couch, arms resting on the back of it as he looked down at Grimmjow. Grimmjow, in a t-shirt and boxers, looking for all the world like he belonged in this apartment, on this couch. Grimmjow looked up at Ichigo's silence, some vague glimmer of concern crossing over his handsome features.

"Hey," Grimmjow said, "what's up with you?"

"Why didn't you just sleep at your place?" Ichigo asked. It was a ridiculous question. Grimmjow never slept at his place; when he wasn't sleep over at Ichigo's, he was probably crashed out drunk at one of his teammate's homes. Ichigo didn't know why he was asking it, but he wanted Grimmjow to answer. He wanted Grimmjow to say something to him, but he wasn't sure what it was. "Why don't you ever sleep at your place?"

Grimmjow frowned at the question. "It's too big. What the hell is wrong with you today?"

"What exactly is this thing between us?" Ichigo asked, not willing to let it go. "If I'm just a convenient lay, why are you always here, watching my television and buying me food? Why aren't you seeing anyone else? Why aren't you fucking anyone else?"

"Why should I have to, when I can pound your hole anytime I want?"

It was said in a mean, ugly tone, and it made Ichigo throw his hands up in frustration as he turned to go back to his bedroom.

"This is why Ulquiorra hates you," Ichigo spat out.

There was a snarl, and a moment later Ichigo found himself pressed against the wall, Grimmjow's hands on either side of him. Grimmjow looked furious, but Ichigo could care less.

"When were you talking with Ulquiorra about this? What the fuck does a little shit like him know?"

"He knows you well enough," Ichigo countered. "You're such a prick, Grimmjow. All you do is treat people like objects that are there for your satisfaction, you don't give a shit about anyone but yourself."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Grimmjow asked. "Why shouldn't I treat you like an object? You belong to me."

"Fuck you,"  Ichigo said, before throwing a fist into Grimmjow's stomach. Grimmjow doubled over in pain and sunk onto the floor, and Ichigo made his way to his bedroom. He grabbed a duffel bag and tossed some of his things into it. Some part of his mind pointed out how ridiculous it was that he was running away from his own apartment, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be away from Grimmjow for awhile. It didn't even take him a minute to stuff everything he needed in his bag, and then he was making his way to the front door. Grimmjow had gotten up and was leaning against the wall, his expression a mix of anger and confusion.

"Ulquiorra was right about you," Ichigo said. "All you care about is getting off. With me, Margera-"

"Ulquiorra doesn't know fuck all about Margera," Grimmjow snarled. Something passed over his eyes, some strange depth of emotion. When he spoke again his tone was a little more somber, though the undercurrent of anger still remained. "What would Ulquiorra know, what would he understand? He's always had everything. Talent, brains, respect. . . parents who actually gave a shit about him. . . what the hell would a person like that know about a person like me?"

Ichigo looked back, staring at Grimmjow's hunched over shoulders, the way his eyes were burning resolutely into the floorboards. A flicker of sympathy flashed inside him before he brushed it aside, slamming the door as he left. He needed some time to himself. As he walked through the streets of Tokyo he got out his phone, hitting the speed dial. A few seconds later it was answered by a low, familiar voice.

"Hey, Ichigo."

"Chad," Ichigo said, coming to rest against a wall to catch his breath, "is it okay if I stay with you for awhile?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Ichigo was sure it was from some mixture of confusion and shock; Chad wouldn't mind if he stayed. Asking was just a formality. Sure enough, his best friend soon answered in the affirmative. "Sure. What's wrong?"

What was wrong? Ichigo's head was clearing, the anger inside him dissipating. With it gone, he was left shaky and a little depressed. "I think I'm love with Grimmjow."

". . . Do you want to meet up? I can take an early lunch break."

"Yeah. That'd be good."

About fifteen minutes later Ichigo was sitting across from Chad inside a tea shop, a pot of Puer tea sitting between them. It was strong and bitter, but it was helping Ichigo calm down.

"What happened?" Chad asked.

"I think I was trying to get him to say that he actually gave a shit about me," Ichigo said, feeling more depressed by the minute. "It's not like I need some stupid romantic declaration, maybe just a 'you're cool to hang out with, man,' or something like that."

Ichigo shook his head. "I should have known that even that was a lost cause. Well, before I knew it, he said something to make me mad, I punched him, and then I left."

"Sounds like you," Chad said. "You really should work on expressing your feelings properly, instead of being so hotheaded."

Ichigi couldn't help but smile at that bit of advice. "Says the man who barely ever opens his mouth."

Chad shrugged. "I talk when I need to. I talk to you."

"Yeah." Ichigo's smile disappeared soon enough, though. "Sorry, I just need to crash for a few days. Grimmjow will probably fire me now, then I can go back to my place and never have to worry about him again."

"Is that okay with you?" Chad asked. Ichigo could hear the skepticism in his voice, but it's not like Ichigo could do anything about it. It was clear now. In Grimmjow's eyes, he hadn't been anything more than a good lay. It was fun while it lasted, but now it was time to move on.

"Yeah," Ichigo said. "It's better that way. Come on, let's talk about something else. . . how's the album coming along?"

The men spent the next several minutes talking about the hack producers that Chad was being forced to deal with, then they spent time talking about nothing important at all. It was good, to be able to relax with a friend like this, and it was too soon when Chad had to go back to work. He handed Ichigo a spare key to his apartment and they said goodbye.

The next few days brought a small surprise for Ichigo: Grimmjow didn't fire him. Ichigo wasn't sure what it meant exactly. He wasn't even sure if he was glad or not. On one hand, he didn't have to deal with Urahara chewing him out, and didn't have to worry about contacting Ulquiorra. But on the other hand, he couldn't go back to his apartment, in case Grimmjow was still hanging around there to talk to him or something stupid like that. Grimmjow called him from time to time, but Ichigo didn't pick up.

There was one problem Ichigo was having, one that he was extremely embarrassed to think about, much less talk about with Chad. When he and Grimmjow had been together, they had been fucking pretty much every day. Now. . . well, now, Ichigo was feeling the absence of sex acutely. He was jerking off every time he took a shower, biting his lip so that Chad couldn't hear him, one hand on his cock and a finger up his ass. It even bothered him during the day, even as he was talking to Grimmjow's publicist over the phone or talking with sponsors for Yoruichi. There was no way he could get around it: his hole missed the feeling of having a dick inside it, and it was reminding him of that fact every second of the day. Ichigo did his best to repeatedly shove the thought to the back of his mind, where it would linger for awhile before it could come to the forefront again.

And it hadn't even been a week since their last time together. Ichigo, once again, pushed it to the back of his head as he rung the bell of an office door. It was the multimedia design firm that Gin had selected to design Grimmjow's web site, and Ichigo was there to meet with Gin and the head designer. The intercom buzzed to life and Ichigo announced his name. Then the door buzzed open and Ichigo stepped into a huge, modern loft. It was one big open space with contemporary counters and desks carefully placed around the floor, dozens of Macs in sight, with young, hip types walking around.

"Ichigo," came a voice, and Ichigo looked over to see a silver-haired man with a grin that was quite disconcerting. "I'm Gin. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh."

Instead of shaking Ichigo's hand, however, he put a hand on his back, gently leading him towards a corner computer where a young, blond man was sitting. The man had blond hair that fell over his face and an absolutely morose expression.

"Yeah," Ichigo said, allowing himself to be led there. "Me too."

"This is Kira Izuru," Gin said. "He's the one in charge of the site."

"Nice to meet you," Kira said, only nodding his head at Ichigo. "If you want, I thought we'd go over what I've done with it, see if you like it and see what needs to be changed."

Kira started to show Ichigo the site he designed, which Ichigo had to admit looked pretty good. A video of Grimmjow's first goal as a J. League player greeted fans to the site, and then an interactive menu sent them to the normal areas that a celebrity web site would have. Biography, interviews, news, and a way to join his fan club. Which Ichigo hadn't even known Gin had set up already. Photos of Grimmjow, both from his football games and his photo shoot, were liberally found all over the site. All in all, it was modern and easy to navigate, which was just what Ichigo had wanted.

"It looks great," Ichigo said, "I can't think of a single thing I would change."

Kira's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to light up with the compliment. "Yeah, it was pretty fun to do. The boss gave me complete creative control this time."

"Thanks to yours truly," Gin said, grin widening just a tiny bit more. "I'm sure you'll be able to thank me later for putting in that good word with your boss."

Kira blushed slightly, but just as quickly as it appeared it was gone, and Ichigo wondered if he had even seen it at all.

"I've gotta thank you," Gin said to Ichigo, "it's getting pretty exciting managing Grimmjow's career. Especially after today's game. . . I've been on the phone pretty much all day. I've got his photo ready to splash on the front page of every sports newspaper and interviews lined up. I've just gotta give him a call and see if he's up to taking them. Which he will be, if he knows what's good for him."

The last sentence sounded more like a threat than anything else, and Ichigo was glad that he had hired Gin. It seemed like he might be able to keep Grimmjow in line when it came to the public relations part of his career. But Ichigo had forgotten that Grimmjow had even had a game.

"Did he do something at the game?" Ichigo asked.

Gin's eyes momentarily opened a little bit. "You're kidding, you didn't watch it?"

"It was amazing," Kira interrupted. "I couldn't believe it when I saw it. It was like watching the second coming of Maradona."

Ichigo had no idea who that was. "Is that a football player who liked to fight a lot?"

"He was only the best footballer of all time," Kira said, his eyes wide and almost sparkling. Gin placed a hand on Kira's shoulder, chuckling a little.

"You can be such a fanboy," Gin said, before turning back to Ichigo. "F.C. Tokyo was down 1-0 with ten minutes left. Which would normally be as good as a loss, only Grimmjow managed to score two goals in the last eight minutes."

"And you should have seen the goals," Kira said. "I mean, talk about skilled, the last one in particular. Fifteen seconds left and Grimmjow actually got the ball up the field forty meters, dribbling past four opponents, and making the goal just in time. One of the most exciting football games in J. League history."

"Yes, yes," Gin agreed, "and now F.C. Tokyo is second in the rankings. There's talk that they'll be able to overthrow the Antlers' dynasty. Talk that I'm doing my part to encourage, of course."

Ichigo nodded, a little dumbfounded. He was thinking of what to say when he felt his phone beep, and he looked down to see a text from Urahara. "Adidas interested. Call back ASAP." A number was included, and Ichigo put his phone back in his pocket, a little bit out of breath.

"So," he said, as though he needed confirmation, "the front page of every sports paper, huh?"

Gin nodded, obviously very pleased with himself. After that they discussed miscellaneous facets of Grimmjow's career, and Ichigo left the building feeling extremely confident with his decision to hire Gin. It was money well spent, he thought, especially since it meant he didn't have to work directly with Grimmjow in at least that one area of his career. Ichigo wondered how he would deal with a  possible Adidas contract, though. He'd obviously have to call Grimmjow to talk about it, though he was loath to do so. Ichigo was still thinking about it when he walked into someone, sending them both falling to the floor.

"Sorry," Ichigo said, standing up, "my bad."

But when he looked down he came eye to eye with a familiar redhead. Renji was holding an empty cup in his hands, most of its contents spilled onto his clothes. He was wearing, inexplicably, a suit jacket and tie with a pair of jeans. Ichigo had to admit that he looked good. Better than he had any right looking, as a matter of fact. A flush was on his cheeks as he looked at Ichigo, and Ichigo remembered what they had gotten into the last time they had been together. His hole twitched at the memory and his face flushed as well.

"Umm. . . Ichigo. . . hi."

"Congratulations on the game," Ichigo said, grabbing Renji's arms to help him onto his feet.

"Yeah, thanks. It was a good one."

They stood there, staring at each other, Ichigo getting much too conscious just how good Renji looked today. His hair was braided in a thick pleat that hung over his shoulder instead of in the messy high ponytail he usually wore. It made him look more mature, somehow. And the cut of that jacket was only accentuating his muscles, obviously well-formed even with all that fabric covering it. Partially wet fabric, Ichigo noted, swearing he could see a trace of Renji's nipple. He was getting a little hard, and he wondered if Renji was feeling it too.

"The apartment I'm staying at is nearby," Ichigo finally said. "Come over and I'll help get that stain out of your shirt."

Renji stared at him for so long that Ichigo thought he was going to say no. But then he managed to squeak out a small "okay," and Ichigo turned to go to Chad's apartment, Renji in tow. They didn't really talk on the way there, Renji no doubt feeling awkward and Ichigo anticipating the coming events too much. He was almost completely hard by the time they got back to the apartment, and he was glad that Chad worked regular hours while Renji didn't.

"I'll need your shirt and jacket," Ichigo said, once they were in.

"Oh." If anything, Renji's blush only deepened. "Okay."

Ichigo watched as Renji first pulled out off his tie, then placed it on a nearby table. Then he pulled off his jacket, handing it to Ichigo. The last thing he did was unbutton his dress shirt, and Ichigo watched as his pectoral and abdominal muscles were revealed inch by inch. Renji was certainly keeping up with his training, Ichigo thought, watching as his thick biceps flexed as he took off his shirt. To Ichigo's surprise, most of Renji's upper body was heavily tattooed. He had seen the tribal designs wrapping around his upper arms like a sleeve, but Ichigo hadn't realized the extent of it. The intricate design wrapped around his shoulders as well and covered the top parts of his chest and back. They only served to draw more attention to the hard lines and ridges of his muscles.

"Here," Renji said, snapping Ichigo out of his reverie. 

Ichigo took the shirt from Renji's outstretched hand. "Go sit on the couch while I wash it out."

Even as hard as he was, Ichigo felt duty-bound to take care of this first. It looked like it was grape soda, so if he didn't wash it out soon it might stain. Right now, though, it was pretty easy to get out, and soon he was wringing the clean yet wet fabric and throwing it into his dryer. He came back to the living room to find Renji sitting on the couch. Without any preamble, Ichigo went and kneeled in between his legs, reaching for his zipper.

"Hey, wait," Renji said, sounding a little bit frantic. He tried swatting Ichigo's hands away. "What are you doing?"

Ichigo scowled. "This is what you came for, isn't it? You're completely hard."

Ichigo grabbed Renji through the fabric of his pants, eliciting a gasp from the other man. His cock was hard and hot in Ichigo's hand, even through the denim fabric. With Renji's hesitation apparently silenced, Ichigo finished unzipping his pants and pulled out his gorgeous cock. It was long and burning up in Ichigo's hands. The foreskin was stretched out along the shaft, revealing the pink head, and Ichigo could see all the little veins and wrinkles that ran along the sides.

"First I'm going to suck you off," Ichigo said. "And then you're going to fuck me. Can you do that?"

Renji's breath shuddered through his body before he could answer. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

Ichigo enveloped the head of Renji's cock in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it as he stroked the shaft with both hands. He teased around the slit at the top before delving his tongue into it, causing Renji to groan and tangle his hands in Ichigo's hair. Ichigo decided to take him deeper, and let his throat spread around Renji's cock as he swallowed it up. Once he had the whole thing in his mouth he reached down and tugged on his pants. As he bobbed his head up and down he managed to work his hand into his boxers, and shoved two fingers inside his ass. It felt so good to have both his holes filled; it had been too long. Renji was leaking a steady stream of pre-cum now, and Ichigo could taste it on his tongue as he moved back and forth on Renji's cock.

It didn't take long for Renji to come. His thighs tensed and his hips thrust upwards, and Ichigo pulled away until only the tip of the cock was inside of his mouth. His mouth was soon filled with delicious, hot cum, and he took his time to savor it before swallowing it all. Renji's cock was glistening and wet in front of him, and Ichigo stroked on it, not wanting Renji to get soft. He didn't seem to have to worry, though, because Renji stayed hard in his hands.

Ichigo stood up, pulling off his pants and shirt, as Renji completely removed his pants. Apparently the man wasn't feeling so unsure of this now. Soon enough Ichigo was climbing into his lap, straddling him on the couch. Renji's hands came up to rub up and down his sides, his mouth coming to press kisses against Ichigo's chest.

"I've never done this before," Renji said, voice a little shaky. Ichigo could practically feel Renji's heart beat through his fingertips, racing a mile a minute.

"Don't worry," Ichigo said, a hand coming to rest in Renji's hair. His other hand reached behind him, grabbing onto Renji's cock. "I'll take care of you."

Ichigo guided Renji to his hole and lowered himself onto that cock. His eyes closed and his mouth opened into an "o" as his hole was opened up. It had only been a several days, but those days had been forever. His hole needed this, needed a big cock stretching it open. Ichigo didn't stop sinking down onto Renji's cock until he had the whole thing up his ass. Finally he was completely impaled, could feel rough pubic hair brushing against his balls. Renji's fingers had an almost painful grip on his rib cage, and Ichigo opened his eyes to see that the man had his head thrown back and his mouth open.

"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked, taking a moment just to enjoy being so full. "How does it feel?"

"Fucking unbelievable," Renji moaned. "I feel like I could nut just from being inside of you."

Ichigo frowned, hoping Renji didn't go off just yet. He put his hands on Renji's shoulders and started to move up and down on the other man's cock. As good as it felt just being filled, this was a million times better. His hole was so sensitive right now Ichigo swore he could feel every ridge of Renji's cock. He kept fucking himself on it, feeling a good seven inches pull out of his hole each time just to slam back in again. Soon he was riding Renji's cock like he was on a horse, his cock bouncing in between them and splattering pre-cum onto Renji's stomach. It wasn't long before he felt Renji shoot, the hot semen hitting hard against his insides.

Ichigo was surprised as Renji pushed him onto his back down on the couch. Renji's cock fell out of him with a plop, but Ichigo could see it was still completely hard. It glistened underneath the light, a mixture of Ichigo's spit and Renji's cum. Ichigo spread his legs again as Renji made his way between them, then leaned forward to press his cock in again. Ichigo moaned as he was breached for a second time and wrapped his arms and legs around Renji's body, pulling him closer.

"That's right," Ichigo said. "Fuck me any way you want. Use my hole until you're satisfied."

He felt a shiver run through Renji's body, felt Renji fuck him harder, deeper. He wished he could see the man's powerful ass as Renji really pounded him, could see it slam into him with each thrust. He was really being jackhammered now. The couch creaked with each thrust and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air. Ichigo was very much aware of the noises he was making, even if he wasn't aware of actually making them. Embarrassing, short cries, wrenched out of him each time Renji slammed into his hole, but they were so close together they sounded like one long, strange moan. He could feel his cock get harder and his balls pull up a little, and then he was coming, shooting his juice in between their stomachs. Renji grunted and forced his dick all the way up Ichigo's hole, and held it there as Ichigo felt hot cum shoot into him for the second time that day.

Renji's body weight collapsed over him, and Ichigo realized that the man was done. He rubbed Renji's shoulders, still feeling shudders run through the red head's body. They were still connected, but Ichigo could feel Renji slowly going limp inside of him. After what felt like a long while, Renji pulled out. He looked down at Ichigo, awkward again, before leaning down to place a rather chaste kiss on his lips.

"Umm. . . thanks," Renji said, as he sat up. "Are you okay? Did I do it right?"

Ichigo nodded as he stood up, going to collect Renji's clothes for him. "You were great."

"Is this really all right?" Renji asked, a touch of nervousness in his voice. "I mean, Grimmjow's my friend, you know."

Ichigo almost rolled his eyes as he came back. If Renji was worried about that, he should have said something earlier. "He would have been fine with you fucking me the other night, so I don't think he would have a problem with it now. And we're not really together anymore."

They hadn't been together to began with, but Ichigo didn't feel like explaining that right now. At this point Renji was completely dressed, and Ichigo escorted him to the door.

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's not your fault," Ichigo said, opening the door. Renji walked through it, but turned around to press another kiss against Ichigo's lips.

"I'll see you later, then," Renji said, his cheeks still blushing slightly.

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed, giving Renji a little smile. "And thanks."

He closed the door, then went to take a shower and clean up before Chad got back and found a mess on his couch.

 

---

* Crack pairing, I know. But I couldn't help but wonder what kind of guy Margera would be if Aizen hadn't taken away most of his abilities to function as a person. I imagine he's be sweet, quiet, and the perfect guy for Grimmjow to harass during his high school days.