Angry at the World

The house was quiet and dark when Ichigo finally returned. It was a wonder his father wasn’t waiting to scold him for ignoring curfew, again, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. With practiced skill, he danced around creaky floorboards and tiptoed past his siblings door and into his room with grace Rukia would be proud of. Once there, he sighed deeply and tried to relax. What a freaking day.

“You know what ya call a kid like that?” He heard Grimmjow’s deep voice ask him from the shadows. Ichigo jumped.

“Christ!” Ichigo exclaimed and turned around. …Who was he talking about? How could he know?

“A cocksucker,” the Espada said while walking forward with his hands in his pockets. “He’s clinging to you ‘cause all he wants to do is suck that dick of yours,” he continued coldly, walking too close. Ichigo backed up.

“What…What the hell? Did you listen in?!” He backed up until he was against the wall, and suddenly Grimmjow’s hands were on either side of his head, and his face was far too close. The redhead felt himself losing control of the situation; felt fear crawling in his gut. This couldn't happen. He'd already decided it couldn't work.

“Sometimes that’s all they want, y’know?” Grimmjow’s voice stayed the same tone, no jokes. His gaze stayed pinned on him, and it was unnerving. “But a cocksucker is never gonna give someone like you what you need, Ichigo.” He lowered his head until his breath was hot and moist on Ichigo’s neck. “He’s never gonna stand against ya and make you fight for it,” he said quietly. Why… Why was he talking to him if all he wanted to do was fuck? Ichigo arched his head back to escape his mouth, but the Espada moved up to his ear. “He’s never gonna move inside you Ichigo, never gonna fill you up inside,” he whispered and pressed himself against Ichigo. His body was hard and unyielding, a cage of muscle. “Never going to satisfy you, need you…” His body was so solid, pressing against his chest and forcing the breath from his body. His voice rumbled; intriguing him and terrifying him at the same time. Why was he listening to this monster? His words were weaving something wicked around him. He felt so cold. “Never going to protect you, or teach you what you could feel… Want you exactly for what you are, want you so badly that he could die,” he said while weaving his fingers into Ichigo’s hair. “Want you so bad that ‘e’d go away if y’really wanted him to.”

“Grimmjow,” the strawberry protested. But he didn’t want him to leave. His heart would ache so terribly if Grimmjow pulled away from him. The Arrancar’s lips pressed against his, warm and seeking. His hand trailed from Ichigo’s cheek down to his chest as he kissed. He kissed him again so slowly, and again, exploring. Grimmjow’s kisses and touch trailed heat down into his soul, down so deeply the Shinigami hadn’t felt that it was frozen. Ichigo’s head lolled back, eyes closed and breath shallow.

“Ichigo?” his hand touched his cheek. Again, that blazing heat.

“Why…” He whispered in reply.

“I’m the only one who knows how much you hurt… and you make me … It hurts, coming alive,” he said, his lips brushing against Ichigo’s cheek as he spoke.

“I think I’m going crazy,” Ichigo replied weakly. “Hollow…Shinigami…I hate you…”

“Y’pretend that it’s hate, cause we’re both the same,” he spoke breathily. This man is a nightmare, Ichigo thought. He knew everything, and he made his heart burn. It couldn’t be right to feel this way. “You’re always like this, makin’ me act like a different person. All sappy’n shit,” The blue haired man’s voice sounded bitter. “What I done to you, I don’t deserve you, but I want you so bad. I need you. You keep me from bein’ a monster.”

Whatever Grimmjow had been, maybe he was different here. Maybe Ichigo was enough to bring out the soul that had existed before he had become an Arrancar. Grimmjow’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, and his lips crushed against his again. This time, Ichigo tentatively wrapped his arms around Grimmjow, gripping his shirt, and kissed him back.

His response made Grimmjow surge. He pressed him close against the wall and kissed him even more deeply. Ichigo had never felt so overwhelmed, so good. Their kiss deepened, and Grimmjow’s tongue slid across his lips. His mouth opened, and with the invitation, the Espada’s tongue plunged in without mercy. Even though Ichigo kissed like this with Suzuki, it still felt so strange. Wet and intruding, but… the pressing of his tongue deep into his mouth made him feel strangely gratified, and he didn’t battle him for control of the kiss. There was a degree of natural comfort in the velvet of his tongue. Ichigo’s hands began to trace down Grimmjow’s back, arching over muscle and bone with intense and probing curiosity.

The hesitancy of his touch, his innocent response, made Grimmjow’s skin tingle and made his arousal clear. Ichigo jumped away at first when he felt him pressing against his leg, but he refused to be cowardly, and with newfound confidence, he grabbed Grimmjow’s shirt from the front and kissed him. Grimmjow grinned and pushed him away, and began to lick along his neck, before settling to suckle, lick and bite at the base.

“H-hey, that…”Ichigo gulped. “Dammit, kiss me, not my neck.” He complained, but Grimmjow’s hands swept along his hips and up to his abs, rubbing and cajoling, sending fire to his groin. “Don’t ignore me…” Grimmjow just moved to another spot on his neck, sucking hard. Ichigo’s hands tightened their grip around Grimmjow, but just as he prepared another objection, Grimmjow’s hands slid devilishly down his back and to his ass. Ichigo blushed furiously as he began to knead and rub the muscle, before grabbing him firmly and pulling him against his crotch. Grimmjow let out a grunt of desire and Ichigo cried out in surprise, unable to stop himself from bucking against such sweet contact. It was so strange to feel every bit of Grimmjow’s hands gripping him, almost dirty and embarrassing, but with him it seemed all right.

“So you like me grabbing your butt, huh?” His tone was conversational, as if he were asking about the weather.

“You’re…Not supposed to be talking and asking me about things right now!” Ichigo said heatedly, still blushing and wriggling from the kneading fingers on his behind.

“Oh, I get it…” Grimmjow said with a low voice. He tightened his grip on Ichigo’s ass, and he gave something of a squeak. He whispered to him, “talkin’ dirty makes you feel like a naughty little boy.” Ichigo’s face turned dark crimson. How, how dare he trivialize him! You weren’t supposed to have a conversation during things like this!

Seeing the cogs turning in Ichigo’s mind, Grimmjow quickly intervened and kissed him softly while pressing him against the wall. Slowly and gently he began to roll his hips against Ichigo’s. He felt heat spearing him again, how easily Grimmjow could do it, spear him with life and warmth. Beyond that it was simple pleasure he’d never felt before. It was such a strange burning, fizzling feeling just behind his cheekbones. Lush, heady passion that increased with every movement of Grimmjow’s fingers and the unsure connection of their lips in every kiss. Ichigo kissed hard and without finesse, trying to make up for his lack of experience with eagerness, but Grimmjow tried to temper him all the same.

The Arrancar was such a fucking beautiful man. Strong arms still held him up entirely, tendons and muscles taut. That strong face, cool, determined eyes that so often blazed with emotion, bizarre and attractive hair. A passionate and quick to anger personality. All of it made up the sixth Espada. His Espada.

His. His. His. Desire pooled in his groin and in his chest with the realization that he wanted him so badly. His heart yearned for somebody who understood him at every turn. The stupid comments the bastard made about what Ichigo felt only ever bothered him because they were the truth. He understood him, he understood fighting, violence, the pain of being a Hollow, and he was as perfect a man he’d ever seen. And now he knew, as Grimmjow wanted to possess him, he wanted to possess Grimmjow. Because now he was his.

“You’re mine,” Ichigo whispered, eyes closed, and kissed the man harshly.

~

Grimmjow felt his heart stop. Did he say it? His? He choked back a sound and wrapped his arms around him with crushing strength. He was breathing heavily. He had a world again.

“You’re mine,” he said with ferocity.

~

I have somebody. Kurosaki Ichigo, somebody wants me and now I have him. It felt so good he could cry, it felt like he was whole again. How long have I felt so empty and not known it? How long have I needed him so fucking badly? What a horrific thing…to not be complete. He leaned forward and kissed him hard again, a visceral part of him exploded in fear that what he had found might suddenly disappear. He focused everything on the sensory feeling of his lips and the crushing grip that the Espada held him in. Grimmjow pressed his hips hard against Ichigo’s groin and bit the redhead’s bottom lip as he groaned. Ichigo writhed against his body and gasped as the Espada began to draw blood from his lip.

Grimmjow sucked at the blood that flowed around his teeth before slipping his tongue back into Ichigo’s mouth. Ichigo was startled by the sudden copper tang on his tongue, but he wasn’t averse to the taste or the pain. Grimmjow gently set the teen back onto his feet, and removed his hands from his ass to bury them in his thick orange hair.

Then he stepped back from Ichigo, and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. What was he doing? Grimmjow pulled him away from the wall and then pushed him onto the bed, but didn’t follow him. He smirked, but it wasn’t cocky or mocking like usual, it was sensual. What was he planning?

While he stared, Grimmjow slowly began to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing the smooth pectorals beneath. The unbroken gaze made Ichigo swallow, slightly embarrassed. That was probably the idea. Hands descended and sculpted abs and hips revealed themselves, and despite his inclination, Ichigo didn’t stop studying the angles and curves of his flesh. He finished with the buttons, and slid off his shirt. His smirk widened as his hands dropped to his jeans; as he began to unzip them Ichigo’s blush deepened again. But he wasn’t going to be outdone and let Grimmjow stand there practically naked in front of him. He glared back at him as he pulled his own shirt up over his head. Grimmjow chuckled quietly as he stepped out of his jeans and moved towards Ichigo.
“What’s so funny?” Ichigo asked defensively. Grimmjow pushed him back onto the bed with his body.

“Just how much you’re you,” he said, and left no time for Ichigo to respond as he kissed him deeply, and pressed his groin against Ichigo’s. He groaned in response and gripped at his bed sheets. It felt as though part of him was detached, watching afar with wonder at what in the world he thought he was doing. But that part, and every part of him, felt too good to feel self-conscious for long as Grimmjow’s hands strayed down his sides, stroking so expertly. He kissed him back as passionately as he knew how, hoping Grimmjow would know what he meant, what exactly he was trying to show. Something beyond the lust that controlled them. The Arrancar’s hands slipped underneath him and gripped his ass harshly to bring it up against his hips, making Ichigo pull away from the kiss to gasp.

Grimmjow made an angry, impatient sound and let his sweat slicked body drop upon Ichigo’s chest to begin undoing his pants. Ichigo struggled to stay in one place. He watched as his pants were thrown unceremoniously away from the bed, and Grimmjow flashed him a victorious grin as he began to edge his boxers down from his hips. He kissed him so fully that he closed his eyes and let his body go limp; his kiss was so sweet, so succoring.

“Grimm…” Grimmjow let out a sound of satisfaction at the pet name and slid his tongue into their kiss. Fingers pressed firmly against the muscles of his ass, something he closed his eyes and reveled. Then one finger pressed against his entrance and his eyes flashed open. “Hey, what are you—“ the finger awkwardly wriggled its way inside and Ichigo yelped. “What the hell are you doing, get your finger outta my ass!” The finger didn’t stop its exploration. “Grimmjow!” He yelled insistently, trying to escape from the bizarre and intruding feeling.

“Will ya quit your bitchin’?!” He replied with a scowl, and began to press against the ring of muscle.

“I ain’t into this sorta thing!” Ichigo said, slightly more panicky. Grimmjow glared at him and pulled out his finger, then pressed Ichigo down. He gestured down at his tented boxers with both hands.

“Ichigo, look at my dick. Just look at it for two seconds,” Ichigo’s blush spread down to his shoulders. “Think about how big my fuckin’ dick is and think about how small your asshole is,” he stated simply. “I ain’t stickin’ my finger in your ass for kicks, I’m stretchin’ you so you don’t rip open when we fuck.”

“O-oh,” Ichigo muttered, looking away. Couldn’t he be less lewd about it?

“Speakin’ of that, don’t s’pose you’ve got any lube?” He cut off Ichigo’s obvious reply, “What about lotion?”

“Ah, well, Karin or Yuzu might have some in the bathroom, but…”he said hesitantly. Grimmjow got off of him and started walking to the door. “Wait a second!” He called out.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he said carelessly, and left. Ichigo heard his heavy feet pad mutedly across the floorboards to the bathroom. He was still breathing heavily, suddenly all too aware of every sound in the house and his own nakedness. The soft click of the light switch and rummaging in the drawers. He couldn’t sit here any longer, it felt like just too much to wait for Grimmjow. Though it made him embarrassed to even entertain the thought, he slowly moved a hand to grip his member. It made him moan in relief as he began to slide his hand along his length. “Hey!” Grimmjow sharply interrupted him. “I didn’t say you could do that,” how had he appeared so suddenly above him? He jumped and quickly moved his hand away, but again Grimmjow interrupted his explanation, this time by grabbing his dick roughly.

“G-Grimmjow!” He gripped his shoulders tightly.

“I got you, don’t worry,” he said quietly. His hand began to slide up and down; it was smooth, wet movement and the sensuous scent of chocolate began to tickle his nose.

“D-damn it Yuzu…” He said breathily before leaning up to claim Grimmjow’s mouth in a kiss. His fingers, now smooth and slimy with lotion, began to work their way to his entrance once more. It made him squirm and try to pull away, but every time he put up too much of a fight, Grimmjow’s hand played delicately around his arousal, squeezing and pressing, just enough pleasure to distract him but not enough to satisfy him. It was driving him mad—grabbing, kissing, the strange scissoring of Grimmjow’s second finger. He arched his back, trying to escape from his touches. Finally he cried out and wrenched himself away from his fingers. “Are we going to fuck or not?!” Grimmjow swept his hair back from his forehead and kissed him deeply, trying to assuage his annoyance.

“Don’t be in such a rush for it, Kurosaki,” he murmured throatily as he sucked just below Ichigo’s adam’s apple. His hand tightened around his penis and Ichigo moaned.

“Please…” Grimmjow’s hands slowly dragged his boxers down and began to coat his erection in lotion. He swallowed as Grimmjow lifted his legs and began to press against him; his thoughts whirled. So quick. He didn’t know if he was certain, if this was okay, or even in the realm of okay. But Grimmjow made him feel as though it were. Maybe that was enough. Oh god. This man had raped him. He’d taken what he’d wanted with no care at all. It had hurt, bled, scarred. So much hurt from that monster. Why hadn’t he thought of this before, damn it all.

But even as fear pressed against his lungs, he watched the Arrancar’s face as his began to push against him—pained and euphoric, focused. Even with the lotion, it was difficult, but he was careful. Inside now. It hurt as he pressed in, but he wouldn’t screw up his eyes in pain; he wanted to watch his face. Grimmjow’s brows were pressed together, but he couldn’t quite tell if the expression was concentration, worry, or impatience. He was pressing with little thrusts, forcing in something that was just too big, and he felt rubbed raw inside. He struggled as he lay there, not quite trying to escape from the feeling but unable to handle it well. Grimmjow’s eyes opened and met his. Sweat dripped down the bridge of his nose.

“…Ichigo?” He asked.

“It hurts more when you stop,” he gasped out, and with that, Grimmjow thrust in abruptly. Ichigo cried out and arched his back. He could barely hear Grimmjow panting.

“You’re so fucking tight… Shit… It’ll feel better soon,” he said. He let his body rest on top of his chest. It soothed some of the ache of being so full, so goddamn full. Oh god, why wouldn’t Grimmjow move? He pressed feather light kisses all along his jaw and smoothed back his hair. Ichigo twisted against the feeling inside him and wrapped his arms tightly around the heavy body above him. He was out of his mind, he had to be. It hurt, and it hurt in such a strange way.

“It…aches…” He managed to get out, still tense and clinging to Grimmjow.

“Gotta…relax. You’re grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice Ichi…” He kissed him softly and put one hand on his chest, over his heart. Ichigo would have thought he could feel its beat anywhere. “It’ll start t’feel good, I promise… The pain’ll go away…” Grimmjow said urgently, a hint of worry in his voice. Ichigo nodded, barely. Part of the redhead could still distantly notice the irony of the normally vicious Espada trying to console him, but that part made him appreciate his strange softness all the more.

And he was right. He was too tense, too freaked out. Every muscle was taut, his heart raced, and his breath was shallow. He made a conscious effort to relax his body and took a deep breath, which elicited a sigh of relief and a rain of light kisses from above.

“Do it.” He wasn’t the type to argue once they’d gotten this far.

Carefully, Grimmjow began to move, rolling his hips and pressing inward. It still ached and throbbed, so much. Slowly, oh so slowly, the small thrusts became just enough to adjust to, if not fully enjoy the thick length inside of him. He had let go of a lot of prejudices about his own self, to have a man sticking his dick in his ass, he thought with irony. Sharp pain brought his thoughts back to the action at hand. Ichigo kept his grip and buried his head against his shoulder. It was better now. More, more, please. Grimmjow changed to rhythmic thrusts, pulling in and out of him now and giving some of the strength behind it that Ichigo now wanted, needed. It was strange and awkward pleasure, anointed with sharp bursts whenever Grimmjow would reach one hand down to grab him.

“You’re so tight… Such a good fuck…” He said huskily. “I love this body of yours, my body…” he said as he pumped Ichigo. They both moaned. If Ichigo focused, he could feel every part of Grimmjow moving inside him, stretching roughly, fucking him. In, in, in, it needed to be always in; it wasn’t fast or hard enough. Without thinking, he began to press back against every push.

“D-dammit, just…” Grimmjow pulled further out than usual and hit him with a particularly hard thrust. Ichigo gasped and pressed closer.

“Yes!” The powerful man above him grinned and repeated the action down to a t. “Ah!” The redhead arched and spasmed, making Grimmjow moan. “Wh-what is—Ah!” Another thrust there, hitting something in him that made him writhe in idiot joy.

“Perfect,” Grimm growled, and began fucking him harder, with that same stroke on every thrust. Ichigo dropped his arms from him and lay back on the bed, hardly able to participate beyond a curse or an exclamation every time that he hit that spot inside him.

“Fuck! Grimmjow, Grimm—“ Ichigo reached an arm around him and pulled him down for a desperate kiss. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so needy. Every thrust was harsh, good, painful, animal, hot. He wanted to be fucked; he couldn’t believe he’d ever feel the absolute need to be so submissive and dominated, and it still wasn’t enough. He’d have to pay the bastard back when he wasn’t busy putting him in Heaven. It had to be Heaven that was starting to simmer and steam inside his body. He couldn’t remember this feeling ever preceding any orgasm he’d had; it would have been intolerable. It was like a tsunami was building and just wouldn’t crash, and the tension was starting to hurt. Their sweat slick bodies were passing so smoothly together now, there just wasn’t enough friction. “Grimm!” He gasped out again and squeezed his eyes shut. Thank god for the temple of strength that held him.

Grimmjow suddenly pulled him up from his back and instead pressed him against the wall and headboard, still fucking him. Ichigo opened his glazed and passion-lush eyes, trying not to exclaim with each thrust.

“W-why’d you do that?” He panted.

“I wanna hold you when you come,” he said, and kissed him, shoving his tongue deep down his throat. The words were simple but they made his groin burn with lust. Typical Grimmjow. Possessive, feral, dominant. Small whines of pleasure began to escape him. Why won’t the wave crash… He could feel it in his whole body, making him stupid, incoherent. He’d already pulled away and thrown his head back in pleasure, mouth open. His muscles began to tremble and burn, close to cramping. Pump. Thrust. A little more with each time.

“Grimm,” he whispered again.

“Oh god, say my name when you come, say it,” he begged, thrusting harder into him.

“Why won’t it, it won’t….Unnh…” He arched his back and bit his lip. For a moment it looked like Grimmjow was going to make him beg, but finally he gripped his penis and began to pump in a quick rhythm, rubbing the head and squeezing. He was losing himself, but still hadn’t crashed yet. “Please…” Grimmjow began to thrust into to him harder and more quickly and rub him faster. “Nnn... Grimmjow…” It was torturous. He couldn’t stay on the brink any longer. His fingers twitched of their own volition. So desperate, his muscles tensed, drawing a groan from his partner. Almost, he could feel it—his mouth formed around the sound, but it wasn’t there. And then… There.

He cried out long and loud, flexing almost every muscle as he came. An unthinking, unconscious crash of pleasure. White splashed on his chest and against Grimmjow. It made him moan, and Ichigo tightening was enough to push him over the edge as well. With a deeply satisfied groan, he thrust viciously and released inside him. The flush of hot liquid continued for what seemed like forever and nearly set Ichigo off again, eliciting another strung out moan and ill coordinated clinging at Grimmjow’s shoulders.

“G…Grimm…jow…” He whispered before his body jerked one last time. Ichigo shook with muscle tension before he collapsed sweaty, tired, and sated against Grimmjow's chest.