Sex and Football

A/N: This fic is my based on Tsukasa Matsuzaki's manga Cicada, which is highly recommended. Just as I don't own Bleach, I also don't own Tsukasa Matsuzaki's work.

Also, while based on real life, this fic is not meant to be particularly realistic. Just thought I'd throw it out there for people who are sticklers for realism in sex scenes, or anything else. Consider this fantasy porno land, please.


Chapter One


There was that saying that bad things always came in threes. Ichigo wondered if he believed it, and then decided that he didn't. He couldn't. If he believed it, that meant something awful was waiting for him just around the corner, and he couldn't handle that right now. The universe wouldn't try to kick him in the balls while he was down, right?

The day had started normally enough. Ishida's alarm went off at seven am, lulling Ichigo to half-awareness. In contrast, it took only seconds for Ishida to spring from the bed, his mind completely awake the moment the alarm sounded. Ishida hit the sleep button, obviously for Ichigo's benefit, just the same as he did every morning. Ichigo would hit the sleep button exactly two more times after that. Finally, Ichigo pushed himself off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Piss, wash, brush, shave. Same routine as always. He pulled on clothes that looked clean and walked to the kitchen, where a steaming bowl of miso soup waited for him on the table.

That was a divergence from the usual daily grind; usually, there were two bowls. Ishida was standing there, his messenger bag already slung over his shoulder, ready to leave for medical school. Ichigo sat down, no idea that Bad Thing Number One was just a fraction of a second away.

"Kurosaki," Ishida said. They never had gotten around to calling each other by their first names, despite the fact that they were what people would call high school sweethearts. "I'm breaking up with you. I trust that you'll help me move my things out this weekend."

Ichigo froze, his cheeks swollen with hot soup. He swallowed. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he opened it again. "Why?"

"It's not you, it's me. No, wait, that's not right. It's actually you. You just don't seem that invested in our relationship."

"I'm the one that asked you to move in with me!" Ichigo tried to play their last two months together in his head. Breakfast together, work apart, dinner together, then relaxing until it was time to go to sleep. They went out to dinner every Friday, and had sex every Saturday. Ichigo had no idea why Ishida wanted to break up. Weren't their lives together pretty good? "What do you mean I'm not invested?"

"I'm going to be late," Ishida said, looking at his watch. "Look, Kurosaki, I know you can be an idiot, so let me spell it out for you: you're not in love with me anymore. It happens, sometimes. The only reason we have for staying together is that we're used to each other, and I'm not willing to just go along with it anymore."

Ichigo looked down at his bowl. At that moment, for reasons unknown, he came to the realization that he didn't know how to make miso soup. He'd have to buy instant from now on. "But, Ishida-"

"Don't worry," Ishida said, his hand on the door knob, "we can still be friends. And I froze some miso soup for you; it should last a few weeks."

And then he was gone, the promise of breakfast soup doing nothing to comfort Ichigo.

Feeling dejected and lost, Ichigo stumbled to work. Ishida had been the only boyfriend he had ever known. He had been a huge part of his life for so long, so much so that Ichigo felt like he was losing a piece of himself. What did Ishida mean Ichigo wasn't in love with him? Ichigo cared for Ishida as much as he did for Yuzu, Karin, and his mom (and that idiotic oaf he called a father). Ichigo was so caught up in his downward spiral that he didn't realize that Bad Thing Number Two was laying in wait for him.

"Kurosaki," one of the secretaries said, as he entered his floor, "Urahara-san is waiting for you in his office."

Ichigo nodded and went to drop his things off in his desk, then headed to his boss's office. The door was open, but the other man was on the phone. Ichigo hung around the door frame until Urahara finally noticed him and waved him in. Ichigo moved a pile of folders from a chair to an empty space on the floor and sat down. Urahara's office was as cluttered as always, and he seemed even more frantic then usual as he discussed something over the phone. After awhile he hung up, somewhat abruptly, and tented his fingers in front of his chest as he grinned at Ichigo.

"Ichigo," he purred, which was Ichigo's first sign that something was wrong. "Did you know that it was time for your quarterly review?"

Now that Urahara brought it up, Ichigo did remember an email that had been sent to all the agents in the office. "Yeah."

"Well, I had the pleasure of looking through your file, and I was deeply shocked to discover than, in the entire time that you've been here, you've only signed two athletes to our agency. Neither of whom is making much money for us. The first kid you signed is playing for some crappy team in the minors, and the other one is a sumo wrestler who's never won a match."

"I've been working on them," Ichigo said, "they have potential-"

"Forget it." Urahara leaned back in his chair. "Your guys aren't ever going to get a decent salary, let alone endorsement deals and media exposure. What you need are better clients."

"I have a lead," Ichigo said, and it wasn't really a lie. Chad had mentioned someone he used to box with in college, some guy who wanted to get into the professional market.

"It had better be a good one." Urahara was smiling, but he didn't seem pleased. "Because if you don't bring back a money-maker, you're fired."

Ichigo scowled in his seat, wondering how the hell he was going to be able to do that. Even if Chad's friend panned out, boxing wasn't a huge deal in Japan right now. Relatively speaking, there wasn't much money to be made from it, even assuming the guy was good enough to win most his matches.

"That's all I wanted to say," Urahara said, his voice sweet as pie. It was as though he hadn't just been threatening Ichigo with unemployment. "Say hello to Uryuu-kun for me."

Ichigo scowled even more as he left the office. He headed back to his desk, starting up his computer to research possible leads. Maybe there was an Olympic swimmer or something who had just let go of his agent. He searched through newspapers and trade web sites for awhile, growing more and more despondent as his efforts turned up nothing.

"Umm. . . Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo looked up at the gentle voice to see Inoue looking down at him. Inoue was probably the best agent at their company, despite her soft-spoken demeanor and ditzy personality. The truth was she was intelligent and affable, qualities her clients regarded well when it came to negotiating their salaries and endorsement deals. Her roster included olympic athletes and some of the top professional players in several of Japan's most popular sports. "Hey, Inoue. Taking a break?"

"Not really. I overheard your conversation with Urahara-san this morning, and I want you to have this."

Inoue passed a manilla folder to Ichigo, who opened it curiously. It was full of magazine and newspaper clippings, mostly from a university in Irokawa. On the top was a written report that Inoue must have typed up, a summary of research on an athlete. A photograph was attached to it, one of those head shots you found on team websites. Piercing blue eyes looked out at him from classically handsome features, a smirk hidden within their depths. The man was definitely good looking enough to capture the interest of the media. Striking, too, light blue hair gelled upwards in a controlled mess, except for a few shorter strands that hung over his forehead.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. A strange name, but he must be at least half-foreign. Ichigo scanned through the report. Grimmjow was the captain and star striker of Irokawa University's football club. He was his college division's lead scorer, and had gotten the m.v.p. award in several games. Both F.C Tokyo and the Kashima Antlers had expressed interest, which meant that there could be a bidding war over him. His current agent was. . . he was currently unsigned.

"I can't take this," Ichigo said, closing the folder and shoving it back towards Inoue. "You're the one who did the research on this guy, you're the one who should sign him. I'll find my own way."

"No, no, it's not like that." Inoue waved her hands in front of her face, trying to get Ichigo to reconsider. "You'll be doing me a favor. I've already asked him several times, but he keeps saying no. Maybe you'll have more luck. After all, it's better that he's signed with our agency than somewhere else, right?"

Ichigo had to admit that was true. Besides, he could imagine what Urahara would say if Ichigo didn't at least try to convince such a big catch to sign with their agency. Ichigo placed the folder down on his desk.

"Thank you, Inoue," he said. For her part, Inoue beamed back at him, apparently satisfied that he had taken on the prospective client.

"Good luck!" she said, before skipping back to her desk.

So Ichigo had went on Irokawa University's web site, and discovered that Irokawa Football Club was having a practice that afternoon. He had immediately left the office and taken the long train ride out to Irokawa, where he was now contemplating the existence of Bad Thing Number Three.

"Taxi?" the question came from an old man in the front of the train station, standing in front of a beat up old car.

"Yeah," Ichigo said, already getting in. "Irokawa University. If you could drop me off at the football field, that would be great."

"Going to watch the boys practice?" the man asked, getting in and turning the key in the ignition. He started rambling on about how good the team was, and how he wished more college games were televised. Ichigo half tuned him out, content to take in the scenery. This was definitely the countryside. They drove past rolling hills and farmland, the occasional cow making its appearance on the side of the street. It was so much different that Tokyo; it was even less developed than Karakura, the typical suburban town that he had been raised in. He wondered why anyone would want to go to school out in the boondocks like this, especially since Grimmjow no doubt had his pick of the colleges.

The campus was set in the middle of nowhere, but Ichigo had to admit that it was incredibly scenic. The classically Japanese buildings were organized among groves of maple trees and well-manicured lawns. They had to drive through the main campus to get to the football field, and Ichigo enjoyed the sights as they did so. Finally they reached the field, which was surrounded on all sides by a low brick wall.

"Here it is," the man said, "that'll be 2000."

Ichigo paid him the money and got out of the car, then walked to one of the archways built into the wall. There was a wrought iron gate, but it was open, and Ichigo let himself in. It opened directly onto the bleachers, and Ichigo walked forward, noticing groups of girls cloistered together and giggling. They were pointing at the men on the field, who were currently involved in a practice game. The ball wasn't moving much right now, being kicked from one person to another.

"Hey," Ichigo said, coming up to one group, "what are you girls watching?"

They looked up at him, suspicious, but must have come to the conclusion that he was harmless.

"Of course," one of them said, "we're here to watch number six."

Ichigo looked towards the field, searching for the number six jersey and not surprised to see a streak of blue hair. So Grimmjow definitely had star power, if all these girls were coming just to watch him practice. There's no doubt that he would develop a huge fan base. Ichigo thought of all the endorsements and modeling deals that would likely come his way. . . Grimmjow could be the next Beckham, really.

"Hey, mister," a girl said, "what are you doing here, anyway? Are you a scout?"

The girls squealed in excitement at the thought, no doubt excited by the thought of their idol landing a deal with a major professional team. Ichigo shook his head no. "But I am an agent."

"You should definitely sign Grimm-kun," one of the girls said. Ichigo raised his eyebrow. That was what the girls had nicknamed Grimmjow? "He's the best on the team by far."

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, "I'm gonna try."

He watched as the practice game ended, and the players lined up for drills. Apparently the seniors were exempt, because at that point Grimmjow and a few of the other players left the field. Ichigo made his way down the bleachers, looking for the coach. It didn't take long, considering Irokawa's football coach was a hulk of a man who wore his hair in ridiculous, thin spikes.

"Zaraki Kenpachi?" Ichigo asked. He got out his business card and offered it to the man. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, from Urahara Promotions. I'd like to talk to you about a player."

Kenpachi looked down at the card, but didn't take it. Instead, he raked his eyes up and down Ichigo's body, unnerving the young man. "Let me guess. You're here to see Grimmjow."

Ichigo put the card back in his pocket. "Do you know if he's interested in signing with an agency?"

"Beats me," Kenpachi said, turning his attention back to his team. "If you want to know, might as well go talk directly to him."

Kenpachi gestured towards what must be the locker rooms, and Ichigo decided just to head in. It was usually nice to have the coach's support, but in this case there was nothing he could do.

Ichigo stepped into a large locker room, surprised to find it empty. But there was a door towards the back, and he could hear noises coming from it, so he figured the seniors must have their own room. He made his way back there to find the players in various states of undress. Grimmjow was sitting on a bench, his shirt off but his soccer shorts still on. Ichigo took a moment to admire the sculpted lines of his arms, chest, and abdomen. . . soccer players did a lot of cardio, which meant that it was easy to lose muscle during the season. That was not, apparently, an issue for Grimmjow, who must have spent a good portion of his time muscle training.

"Grimmjow Jeg. . .jak-"

"Just call me Grimmjow," the man said, not in the friendliest of tones. Ichigo guessed that most people's inability to pronounce Grimmjow's last name was an ongoing problem for the man. The man looked up, blue eyes burning into Ichigo. A frown was pulling down on his lips. "What do you want?"

"I'm from Urahara Promotions," Ichigo started, but he didn't get a chance to continue before Grimmjow interrupted him.

"Not interested," he said, getting up and turning his back to Ichigo. He pulled a towel from his locker and slung it over his shoulder, presumably to go take a shower.

"Look, hear me out first," Ichigo tried. "We're one of the biggest agencies in Tokyo. We can-"

"You guys are the ones that sent over that girl with the huge tits, right? Couldn't stop yapping about endorsement deals and contracts. But as far as I see it you guys are only around to take your ten percent cut and complicate things."

"That's not true," Ichigo said, "agents can get you deals that you would never be able to get on your own."

"What do I give a shit about deals? I just want to play football, and those teams are more than willing to negotiate with me directly."

This was going nowhere. Bad Thing Number Three, Ichigo thought, then realized that there would be a Bad Thing Number Four waiting for him back at the office. . . he was going to be fired. And it's not like any other agency was going to take on someone with his scant list of clients. "What else do you want? I can get you anything you want, do anything you want me to."

He was sure that Urahara wouldn't mind shelling out, given the caliber of the goods involved. Grimmjow turned to look at him then, his gaze shifting to an almost predatory one as his eyes roamed over Ichigo's body. They took their time, trailing over Ichigo's chest and then further downwards, causing Ichigo to cross his arms and lean backwards almost defensively.

"Anything?" Grimmjow asked, his mouth a mean sneer. He stalked towards Ichigo, towel slipping from his shoulder. In turn, Ichigo walked backwards. He wasn't the type to get nervous, but he was certainly feeling on edge right now. The back of Ichigo's head slammed against a locker, and Grimmjow's hands slammed into the metal on either side of it. Ichigo cringed more from the noise than the impact. He could make out figures behind Grimmjow, watching them, and was reminded that they weren't the only people in the room. "Here's something you can do for me."

One if Grimmjow's hands left the wall beside Ichigo's head. Ichigo watched Grimmjow's hand as it moved downward, lower, to finally end up cupped against Grimmjow's groin. Grimmjow was pulling on something through the layers of cloth, shifting something. As Grimmjow manipulated the fabric, Ichigo blushed to see the tip of Grimmjow's cock appear through a leg of his shorts. A red, bulbous head followed, than the thick, veiny shaft, until Grimmjow's limp cock was hanging halfway down his left thigh.

"Suck it," Grimmjow said.

Ichigo's mouth was dry. The thing was probably thicker than his wrist and had to be a good foot long, and it wasn't even hard. Ichigo forced himself to laugh, but it came out sounding nervous and small. "This is a joke, right?"

"Nuh uh," Grimmjow, his expression set into a leer. "You said you'd get me anything I want. What I want is that pretty little mouth on my dick."

Grimmjow brought a hand down to the exposed part of his cock, lifting it up to give Ichigo a better view. "Pretty huge, right? I know you're dying to gulp it down. Go ahead, try to swallow it."

"You're full of shit," Ichigo said, "like I would do something like that."

"Yeah? Then why are you rock hard and blushing bright red?"

Ichigo glanced down at himself to realize that he was obviously tenting through his pants. He watched as Grimmjow's cock twitched upwards, getting harder and harder with every small jerk.

"Now be a good boy," Grimmjow said, "and suck it. If you don't, I'll just jam it down and fuck your throat by force."

The other men in the locker room had taken a few steps closer. Some of them were hard as well, tenting through their shorts and towels. A few even had their cocks out, and were stroking them languidly as they watched the show.

Ichigo gulped and sunk down to his knees, coming face to face with that monster. By now Grimmjow was completely hard and straining through the hole in his shorts. His cock was only marginally bigger hard than soft, to Ichigo's immense relief. The head of it was flushed a deep red, and its veins were taut along the rigid shaft. Every now and then a bead of pre-cum pushed out of the slit at the tip, rolling down over the head to disappear.

Ichigo scooted forward and grabbed the waistband of Grimmjow's shorts and jock strap. He pulled, freeing that monster of a cock in one motion. It bobbed it the air a few times before settling at a slightly upward angle. Ichigo placed one hand around the base of Grimmjow's cock, and the other around Grimmjow's muscular thigh. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out to press against Grimmjow's slit, lapping up the pre-cum there.

The taste of it made him shiver. Strong and decidedly masculine, and he couldn't get enough of it. He licked all around the head of Grimmjow's cock, trying to get any trace of the tangy liquid on his tongue. He licked around the shaft, too, tracing the veins that bulged slightly on the surface, bringing his lips to suck gently on the sides of Grimmjow's shaft.

"Tasty, yeah?" Grimmjow teased.

After he finished licking up and down Grimmjow's cock, Ichigo came back to the head. It seemed to pulse, moving up and down in the air. It was huge. Ichigo wondered if he could even take it into his mouth, but it looked too delicious to not even try. He spread his lips around the head of the cock, feeling them spread around it as he pushed further onto it. Soon the cock hit the back of his throat, and he wasn't even halfway done.

Ichigo paused and took a deep breath through his nose. He pushed in an inch, then pulled off two inches as he started to gag. Making an attempt to relax his throat, he tried again. Ichigo found that if he took it slowly, he could get more and more of the thick, hot cock into his mouth. He felt his throat being stretched to the limit as it went down. After awhile he came to where his hand was holding onto Grimmjow's cock, and he moved it to cup and fondle Grimmjow's large balls instead. As he buried the cock even deeper into his throat, his free hand came down to unzip his pants and pull his own cock out, giving it some much needed physical stimulation.

"This is fucking great," Grimmjow said, as Ichigo found his nose pressed against rough public hair. "You're better at this than the freshmen boys."

Ichigo briefly wondered if Grimmjow was allowed to just fuck whoever he wanted, but now that he had the whole cock in his mouth he had other things to think about. He could really suck it in earnest now, try to milk it for all it was worth.

"You really love this, huh? You're gobbling my dick down like you're starving. You must be in heaven, with my huge dick punching your cheeks out."

The words only made Ichigo suck harder and pull on his own cock more forcefully. Grimmjow's hand came up to caress the back of his head.

"In the second half," Grimmjow said, his voice rough and heavy, "I'm gonna pound your asshole."

At the words, Ichigo's face scrunched up and he came. His hips instinctively thrust into his hand and his whole body convulsed, his cock shooting out a few thick streams of semen. He was sure that he uttered a cry, but it was no doubt muffled by the cock shoved deep down his throat. He kept pulling on his cock even afterwards, his hand slippery and wet with his own cum.

He was vaguely aware of being pushed off Grimmjow's cock and onto his back on the floor. His pants and boxers were pulled off and his legs spread. Grimmjow reached down and scooped up some of Ichigo's cum with his hand, then used it to get his huge cock wet. With his other hand, he scooped up more cum with two of his fingers, and pushed them hard up Ichigo's ass. The ring of muscle there didn't even have the chance to protest the intrusion, and soon Grimmjow's fingers were scissoring and spreading Ichigo from the inside.

"Wait," Ichigo said, watching as Grimmjow's hand moved up and down on that monster. It had been a long time since he had used his ass. For whatever reason, Ishida preferred to bottom, so Ichigo didn't get to have a cock up his hole very often. "There's no way I can take a dick that huge."

"Don't feed me that bullshit," Grimmjow said. He placed his hands on the back of Ichigo's thighs, spreading his legs up and apart. "Look at you, you're already hard again and dripping wet. You want my dick inside you, busting you open."

Ichigo looked down. His pelvis was lifted off the air, and he could see his cock pointing towards him. It was still slick with the cum he had already shot out, but now it was dripping thin streams of pre-cum onto his stomach. He could see Grimmjow's huge cock between his legs, then cringed as he felt the tip of it press against his hole.

"Wait," he said, trying again, but then he cringed as Grimmjow started to push in.

"Fuck yeah," Grimmjow said, as the tip of his cock managed to force its way past Ichigo's tight ring of muscle, "here it comes."

Ichigo couldn't help but cry out as the head of Grimmjow's cock entered his body. His hole somehow managed to stretch around it, but he still felt like he was being torn apart. It got worse as Grimmjow kept pushing in. He felt like his whole backside was being invaded, his guts rearranged to accommodate the huge intrusion.

"Stop screaming and shut the fuck up," Grimmjow said, as Ichigo squirmed beneath him, "it's already halfway inside you."

One more push had Ichigo seeing stars. He gasped, all the breath leaving him at once, like someone had just punched him in the stomach. As Grimmhow pushed all the way in Ichigo came again, his cock shooting out strands of sticky fluid onto his stomach and shirt. He could feel Grimmjow's swollen balls press against his ass, could feel places inside him shift and rearrange themselves to fit around Grimmjow's cock. Grimmjow was reaching places inside him that no one had ever touched before, and it felt so good.

"You're so full of bullshit," Grimmjow said, leaning down to bite hard on Ichigo's earlobe. "'I don't want to suck it,' you said, 'it's too big to fit it my hole.' But now look at you. Moaning and screaming like a bitch in heat."

Ichigo moaned and cried out as Grimmjow pulled back, only to push forcefully back it. Grimmjow fucked him slow, at first, but then built up a rhythm, pounding him in long, hard thrusts. A good eight inches of cock would pull out of him each time only to slam back in, and he felt himself sliding across the floor a little with each thrust.

"Fuck yeah," Grimmjow moaned, right next to his ear. "Your hole is so fuckin' tight. I'm gonna bust a huge load in this one."

Ichigo shuddered at the words, wanting nothing more than to feel Grimmjow's cum shooting into him. He brought up his legs to wrap around Grimmjow's waist, trying to help the other man get deeper inside of him with each thrust. Ichigo felt something hot and wet land on his face, and he looked up to see a cock dripping cum onto his cheeks. Grimmjow had propped himself up on his hands, and the other seniors had gathered around Ichigo's head, jerking themselves off. One of them pressed the head of his cock against Ichigo's lips, and Ichigo opened his mouth obediently, sucking it in. Someone else grabbed his hand and placed it on a stiff, hot cock, and Ichigo immediately started to jerk it off.

He didn't know what was happening to him. He didn't know why he was enjoying this, but Grimmjow's cock was making him feel so good that he didn't think. The cock in his mouth shuddered and deposited thick, yummy cream onto his tongue, and another load was being dropped onto his face. It was getting in his hair and dribbling down his neck and chin, but he took the next cock into his mouth with no complaints.

"Fuck. . . fuck, I'm cumming."

Ichigo moaned as he felt hot semen hit the inside walls of his ass . Grimmjow still kept fucking him after he came, and the hard thrusts pushed the cum back out of his hole. It oozed out around Grimmjow's cock to drip all over Ichigo's ass and onto the floor. Ichigo jerked and convulsed as his own cock twitched one more time, shooting just a few thin stream of cum out to land on his stomach. Finally, Grimmjow pulled his cock all the way out, leaving Ichigo feeling strangely empty.

The cock in Ichigo's mouth shot its load, and then it was pulled out, leaving a sticky mess to drip out of the corners of Ichigo's lips. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily. He was a mess. Every orifice of his body felt sticky and sore, and he was covered head to toe in hot cream. It was crusting in his hair and getting into his eyes. He used an arm to wipe some off his face, blinking his eyes back open to search for Grimmjow.

Grimmjow was sitting on a bench nude, wiping his cock off with a towel. The other men were back to whatever they had been doing before, business as usual.

"Get up," Grimmjow said. "We're going back to my dorm."

"What?" Ichigo asked, pushing himself up into a seated position. He cringed as he felt cum drip off his face and out of his asshole. Grimmjow threw his towel at him.

"I'm going to keep fucking you until my balls are completely wrung dry," Grimmjow said. "By the end of the night, your hole's going to be ruined for any other man."

Ichigo only wiped himself off as best he could, then reached for his clothes. For some strange reason. . . Grimmjow's proposition didn't sound half bad.