Twitter Updates: All fic updates are posted at http://twitter.com/#!/crunchysalad. I am also on AO3 if you want to use it to subscribe to me (let me know if you want an invitation).
Summary: Ichigo is stuck in a crime-ridden city that is separated from the rest of the world (and his family) by a mile-thick wall. Worse still is the fact that he has to sleep with his benefactor Aizen while harboring affections for his bodyguard Grimmjow. He wants to escape his situation, but his helplessness prevents him from doing much on his own.
Pairings: Aizen/Ichigo, Grimmjow/Ichigo
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Alternate Universe, Drama, Dubious Consent
A/N on the results of my recent poll at end.
Chapter One
It was called the Walled City for a few reasons. For one, like its namesake in Old Kowloon, it was a haphazard experiment in urban planning (or the lack thereof). The landowners built homes and businesses just inches away from each other so that you could reach out and grab food from your neighbor's kitchen table. And they kept building them, until the streets were just a few feet across, until they ran out of space. And then they started to build new buildings on top of the existing ones, until the whole thing was just a labyrinth of rooms and stairs and narrow corridors all growing upwards. Streets were a joke by now; walking along them and looking up, you didn't see the sky. You saw the bottom of another building. Or you saw building after building reaching up into infinity, walls that seemed to close off somewhere high up in the sky. There were people born in Walled City that had never even seen the sunlight.
And then there was the actual literal wall. When Walled City had become completely impenetrable for police and government, when it had decayed to anarchy inside, the powers in charge decided to cut it off from the rest of the world. Leave it to self-destruct. So they built a wall, made of metal and spanning a mile thick, around it.
Ichigo remembered when the wall went up. It had happened overnight; at least it did in his memory. But he was a child then and hardly knew what was going on. When it was done he and his mother were left on one side while his father and sisters were on the other.
But that was a long time ago.
Ichigo walked down one of the many corridors on one of the lower levels of the city. It was memory and experience that allowed him to make his way through the halls, towards a familiar gyoza shop in what was known as district seventy-eight. It wasn't long before he found the familiar door; it was located to the side of a relatively open area, a space that the local children sometimes used to play in. The metal and concrete probably weren't as nice as grass and dirt, but at least it was something, and they didn't know enough to know that they were missing out.
Ichigo let himself in, not surprised to see that the restaurant was empty. It was almost always empty. He could smell the sizzle of dumplings in oil, could hear it, but there was no one there to enjoy them. Ichigo walked through the small space and took a seat at the counter, pulling down the hood on his oversized jacket as he did so. The sound of soft fabric and jangling zippers filled the air. Not a moment later a familiar flurry of red hair and tattoos, accompanied by a rather forced smile, appeared from the back door. The man was dressed in a striped purple yukata that clashed horribly with his hair, but then Renji was probably color blind considering some of the outfits he wore.
"Welcome," Renji said, before seeing Ichigo there. The smile dropped from his face, replaced by a more neutral expression. "Oh, it's just you. The regular?"
Ichigo nodded. "Good to see you too, Renji."
"What's good about it?" Renji asked, even as he disappeared into the back. The walls were thin here, so it wasn't hard to hear through them. "Nothing good about having to see your ugly mug every day."
"Should you really be saying that about your only regular customer?" Ichigo asked. He leaned forward on the counter as he waited. Tapped his fingers against the surface.
Not that it took Renji very long to get him his food. Renji came back just a few moments later, a plate of fried dumplings filled with cabbage and ground pork in his hand. It was deposited rather unceremoniously in front of Ichigo.
Ichigo scowled a little as he looked at the plate. "You didn't make these, did you?"
"What do you think?" Renji asked, leaning back as he raised an eyebrow. "Like Rukia would trust me with shit like that. She made them, I just fried them."
Ichigo nodded, instantly relieved. He dug into the dumplings, the best he'd eaten south of the twentieth floor. Or maybe he was biased. Considering the fact that he had spent quite a few years eating these dumplings, it wasn't too farfetched. And he had been friends with Rukia and Renji for awhile, after all, ever since he had ended up trapped in this city. The two had been the first friends Ichigo and his mother had made. They were barely adults at the time, not much more than a decade older than Ichigo, but they had helped them find housing and had settled them into the neighborhood. That seemed like such a long time ago, though.
Renji was watching him eat, arms crossed and a small frown tugging at his lips. It irked Ichigo, a little bit, enough that he couldn't enjoy his meal in peace.
"Where's Rukia?" he finally asked, anything to break the silence between them.
"Out fighting for justice," Renji replied, a little sarcastically. "They shut down the water for a whole block, a few hallways from here. She decided to go get it taken care of. Don't know how, not like she can pick a fight with the Ichimaru group. Where's your shadow?"
"Shadow" was said in a rather mildly derisive tone, like Renji was talking about a piece of gum that had gotten stuck on the bottom of his shoe.
"Lost him," Ichigo said. He might pay for it later, but sometimes he needed just a little bit of freedom. "What do you care?"
Renji shrugged. "Don't like him. Don't like how he's always following you around. When are you going to get away from those guys, anyway? You can always move in with me and Rukia, you know. Our place isn't much, but it's a place to call home. Sides, it would be nice to have someone else around. Rukia can be a pain in the ass, when she wants to."
"Are you worried about me?" Ichigo asked, allowing a small smile to spread over his lips.
The question had the expected effect on Renji, who was nothing if not predictable. He scowled as he stood up straight, yanking the plate away from under Ichigo's nose. There was still a dumpling on it.
"As if I would be," Renji muttered, dumping the plate in the sink.
Ichigo got up. He pulled a bill out of his pocket and dropped them on the counter. He liked spending time here with Renji, despite their bickering, but he had an appointment to keep.
"That's too much money," Renji said.
"Sorry," Ichigo replied, though he felt anything but. Renji and Rukia needed that money. The restaurant wasn't doing that well, and on top of that Renji was always giving away food to the local kids. "I don't have any small bills."
Renji only watched as Ichigo stood up and started to leave. Ichigo was halfway to the door when he called out, concern lacing his voice.
"Ichigo," he said, waiting for Ichigo to turn and face him before he want on. "Be careful, okay? Maybe you shouldn't be walking around this district by yourself. Maybe your shadow's actually a good thing to have around."
Huh. It couldn't have easy for Renji to say that last sentence, considering how he felt about the guy.
"Isn't this Ichimaru's territory?" Ichigo asked. "Last I heard he's allied with Aizen. It's not like he's going to come after me."
Renji shrugged. "Word on the street is that something might be happening between them. And I wouldn't trust either of them farther them I could throw them, so there's that. I'm just saying, be safe."
"Yeah," Ichigo said. "I will. Thanks, Renji."
Renji nodded, and Ichigo disappeared out the door. He pulled up his hood as soon as he was out and started the long trek to his next destination. He made his way up staircases, down staircases, through a million identical corridors. It took some time, but he had time to spare. Soon he was making his way through a hole in some wooden boards, into a forgotten room on the very edge of the city. It might have been an apartment once, or maybe a small shop, but now it was just empty space.
There was a pane of glass there, a few feet thick. And there was a view of the top of the wall and the grid of electrified wires that ran all along it. To the naked eye it seemed to stretch out forever, but it was only a mile. There was a loose panel in the wall here. Ichigo removed it and reached inside. A pair of binoculars and a pad of paper. He held the binoculars up to the window, searching for a certain building on the other side. Once he found the building he zeroed in on a certain apartment, smiling when he saw Yuzu with her binoculars out, waving at him.
So it was only Yuzu today. That was fine; Ichigo knew that it was hard for all three of them to make these weekly appointments. And there were times that Ichigo himself couldn't show up, too caught up in things to get away. He scribbled some words onto a piece of paper and held it up to the window.
"Hey, Yuzu," it said. "How is every one?"
It took a little bit for Yuzu to read the sign, and then she was scribbling her own answer.
"Goat-face is really busy in the clinic. Karin just won her softball tournament, and I'm learning how to make souffle. How are you, nii-san?"
It was a slow, cumbersome method of communication, but at least it was communication. Ichigo had been lucky that he had been able to even set this up to began with, been able to get his family to move to that apartment. After he had found this place, it had taken years of smuggled letters for them to be able to set this up and coordinate properly.
Ichigo "talked" to Yuzu for almost an hour before she had to go. It wasn't a long time, but at least it was something. These weekly meetings were the only connection Ichigo had to family, so he cherished them. He just wished that there wasn't this thick wall between them.
Afterward, he put his binoculars and notepad back in the hole and replaced the panel. He left the room and started his trek back to the district he called home. . . district one. He would have to take an elevator to get there, never a pleasant experience, and he wasn't looking forward to it. They were always slow, hot, and overcrowded. But the only other option was to climb up a spiral staircase that was falling apart in places, which wasn't much of an option at all. It was hard to decide which one was the bigger fire hazard, but at least the elevator was consistent.
He was walking through what passed for a commercial district when Ichigo felt it. Someone was following him. No, it wasn't just someone, it was a few people at least. Ichigo buried his hands in his pockets, trying not to let whoever it was catch on to the fact that he was on to them.
Ichigo made it a point not to dress too ostentatiously. Oversized hooded jacket, skinny jeans, high-top sneakers. Nothing that would get him noticed, nothing too expensive, even though he could certainly afford it. So he wondered what these guys were doing tailing him. Ichigo was about to leave this area, onto the next one, when the corridor in front of him was blocked by two hulking man.
"Never seen you around here before," one of the men said, sneering at him.
"That some kind of pick up line?" Ichigo asked. "Cause if it is, it's a pretty bad one."
The man laughed. "Think you're pretty smart, huh? You're definitely looking the part, with those brand new sneakers on your feet."
So he hadn't been dressing down as much as he had thought. Ichigo scowled, making a note to dirty up his shoes once he got home.
"I wouldn't try anything if I were you," Ichigo said.
"In case you didn't notice," the man said, stepping forward, "you're outnumbered here. So why don't you hand over your money and those shoes before you regret it?"
Ichigo looked around him. Two men in front of him, three men behind. It was nothing he couldn't handle.
"I won't say it again," Ichigo said. "Let me through."
It was someone behind him who made the first move, but he wasn't so fast that Ichigo couldn't react to it. As the man came up behind him and tried to put him in a head lock, Ichigo easily used his weight against him, grabbing his arm and flipping him over. After that it was a flurry of punches and kicks as all five of them tried to attack him at roughly the same time. They had picked the wrong person to gang up on.
Ichigo had taken care of three of them when he noticed that one was standing in front of him. The man raised his arm, and Ichigo's eyes widened at the black metal that was held in his hands. It wasn't that there weren't any guns in Walled City. It's just that they were pretty tightly controlled by the different yakuza groups. The yakuza were, after all, the only form of government that Walled City had ever really known. It was rare to see some common thug with one.
Before Ichigo could react, a gunshot rang out and echoed through the narrow halls. There were screams, footsteps of people running away. And the man holding the gun, the man who had been pointing a gun at
him, was dead. A red flower was spreading out over his chest, larger and larger, dying everything about him dark crimson. And then he was falling, toppling over, onto the ground, eyes blank and dead and wrong.
Ichigo felt nauseated. He fell forward, trying to find something to hold onto, but succeeding only in colliding with the wall. He slid down it until he was a half-collapsed heap on the floor. His stomach was doing summersaults and he could feel the bile rising up from it.
"Ichigo. You little fucker, get up."
An arm hooked under his armpits, jerked him to his feet. But he fell forward again, clutching his stomach as he heaved onto the floor. The stench of it filled his mouth, spread through the air. Disgusting.
"Shit. Such a fucking mess."
The arm was back, more successful this time. It pulled Ichigo up and and tugged him forward, and Ichigo had no option but to follow.
"Grimmjow," he mumbled. "Not so fast."
"Don't fucking talk to me," Grimmjow all but spit out. "I'm pissed right now."
Ichigo looked up. Grimmjow did indeed look mad, his jaw clenched shut and his eyes glaring ahead of it. It didn't help that his handsome features were bathed in shadow, an effect made possible by the lack of proper artificial lighting in these lower levels.
"How do you expect me to be your bodyguard," Grimmjow continued, "if you keep running off? You know what would happen if you got hurt? Aizen would kill me, that's what would happen. So fuck you, Ichigo. I don't want to hear a word from you until we get back."
Ichigo bit his tongue to keep a reply from spilling from it. He didn't want to antagonize Grimmjow, not really, and even an innocent explanation would do that right now. But he wanted to tell him that he hadn't run away because he didn't want Grimmjow around. He just needed some kind of independence, sometimes. It was hard being under Aizen's lock and key twenty-four hours a day. Grimmjow, of all people, should know that.
They walked in silence until they found an elevator for the proper floor. They had to wait in line, but that was nothing new. It was just the nature of the beast. Maybe if Aizen was with them they could bypass it, but he wasn't. Grimmjow put Ichigo in line and left for a moment. When he came back he was holding a bottle of water, and he shoved it into Ichigo's hands.
So maybe he wasn't all that mad after all, despite his harsh words from before. Ichigo took the bottle gratefully and chugged it down, eager to wash the aftertaste of vomit from his mouth. He looked up at Grimmjow. The man looked just a little bit calmer now and was watching him with a contemplative look in his eyes.
"You still haven't gotten over your fear of guns, huh," Grimmjow said. "I guess it's because of-"
"Don't say it," Ichigo spit out, eyes glaring.
"-your mom."
Ichigo glared some more, unable to do much of anything else. Besides, it didn't seem like Grimmjow was going to press the point. They could just forget it, which was what Ichigo wanted anyway. After a bit of waiting they were shuffled into the elevator. The hot, tiny elevator. As it rode up people got on and people got off, but right before they got to district one everyone else was gone. They were the only two people on the elevator. Most likely due to the fact that district one, after all, was completely owned by Aizen.
"Why were you so mad when I ran off?" Ichigo asked, now that they were alone. "Was it just because you're afraid of Aizen?"
Grimmjow's response was a lesson in studied nonchalance. "Why else would I be upset?"
Ichigo nodded. He hadn't expected anything else, but it still hurt a little bit.
They got off on the lowest floor of district one. That was as far up as that elevator went. As they stepped off Ichigo was struck, for perhaps the millionth time, at how different it was up here. It was clean, structured, ordered. The lights here actually simulated sunlight, changed from dawn to day to dusk to night over the course of every twenty-four hour cycle. There was even real sunlight, on the topmost floors, where Aizen's offices were. Which was where they headed now.
It was a series of checkpoints, elevators, and well-appointed hallways before they reached the office. Or, to be more accurate, the waiting room of the office. Ichigo went immediately to slouch down in a chair while Grimmjow chatted up the secretary.
"I brought him," Grimmjow said, "so let the boss know we're here."
"Of course, Mr. Jaegerjaquez. I'll let him know right away."
Grimmjow came to sit next to Ichigo. He picked up a nearby magazine and started to flip through it. He had already flipped through it about a hundred times. . . it was about three years old, after all. Periodicals didn't exactly deliver to Walled City, and they were hardly on Aizen's list of things to smuggle in.
The secretary's headset beeped. She nodded and made noises of affirmation for a few moments, and then it switched off. Then she turned to Ichigo.
"Mr. Kurosaki," she said, "he'll see you now."
Ichigo turned to Grimmjow before he got up.
"Stay here," he said.
Grimmjow scowled, but then shrugged in response. "Sure. I'll be here when you get out."
Ichigo nodded as he got up and let himself into Aizen's office.
The office was only large when compared to other rooms in Walled City. In any other city it would probably be considered small, especially given the status of the person occupying it. It was, most definitely, not cheap. It was filled with only the most expensive furniture. A marble desk. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one wall. High-backed, black leather chairs. There was a door to the side that led off to a small bedroom, a bedroom with which Ichigo was very familiar, on nights when Aizen worked late and wanted some company. And there was a balcony. All it looked over was the roof of the floor below, but it was still an actual, honest to goodness balcony. Ichigo loved sitting out there, feeling the sun, the wind, the rain. Anything. There wasn't a moment of being outside that wasn't amazing.
Aizen was sitting at his desk, looking the same as ever. Slicked back hair, lips pulled into a small smirk, eyes filled with the confidence of a man on top of the world, both literally and figuratively. A wretched cesspool of a world, but a world of his own nonetheless. There were two men sitting in front of his desk, two men Ichigo didn't know, but it seemed as though they were doing business. No doubt men from a different group, a different territory.
"Ichigo," Aizen murmured, his voice as smooth as butter. "Where's Grimmjow? Did he not escort you here?"
"He's waiting outside," Ichigo said, scowling a bit at the mention of his bodyguard.
"Oh, yes. I forgot, you don't like your pet to see you like this." Aizen's smile grew just that little bit wider. "Well, come here then. This meeting was growing boring. Perhaps you can entertain me."
Aizen pushed his chair just a little bit backwards and spread his legs out. Ichigo walked towards him, knowing exactly what was expected. Aizen always did love an audience. As Ichigo sunk down onto his knees between Aizen's legs, Aizen turned his attention back to his guests.
"Gentlemen," he said. "I believe we were discussing the trade in district forty. Please, do continue."
As the men started to discuss business again, Ichigo's fingers fumbled at Aizen's zipper. He was too familiar with this act to even be embarrassed by it anymore. He unzipped Aizen's pants, then reached into his boxers to pull out his still-flaccid cock. The bastard wasn't even hard. Ichigo lifted Aizen's cock up and slipped it between his lips, where he started to suck on it. As he sucked he swirled his tongue around it, and slowly but surely he felt it growing inside his mouth. After awhile it was completely hard, only the top half remaining in his mouth.
Ichigo held the base of it with one hand as he pulled his mouth away. He licked all up and down the shaft, swirled his tongue around the head of it, then moved to suck on the side of Aizen's cock. Aizen loved this particular sensation, and Ichigo took his time as he sucked up and down on one side, then up and down the other. He then returned to the head of Aizen's cock, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there. Eventually he started to bob up and down Aizen's whole cock. His nose pushed into Aizen's pubic hair each time, and he felt all to clearly the thick cock sliding down his throat.
The men were nearing the end of their discussion when Aizen started to come. One of his hands gripped Ichigo's hair so hard it hurt, and he forced the boy to swallow him completely. Ichigo's nose mashed into pelvic bone as hot cream poured down his throat. He gagged on it, a little bit, but Aizen didn't let go. So he had no choice but to keep sucking, at least until the pressure in his hair disappeared and he could lift his mouth off.
When Aizen finally let him go, the two men were leaving. Ichigo turned to watch them go, watch their hurried, awkward steps. He was sure that they were hurrying to the bathroom, and that their steps were strange because of the bulges that would no doubt be found in the front of their pants. Ichigo turned back towards Aizen and glanced down at his cock.
"You're still hard," Ichigo said.
"What can I say?" Aizen asked, leaning his head to the side to rest in his palm. "You just get me so excited. You really do keep me young, Ichigo. Now, if you would kindly take off your pants and bend over my desk."
Ichigo did as he was told, but he couldn't help adding a caveat as he undid his belt.
"Don't invite your next meeting in while we're fucking," he said, pulling his jeans to his knees and bending over that cold marble desk. "I don't feel like having people watching us."
"Demanding today, aren't we?"
Aizen came up behind him, and Ichigo felt Aizen's hard cock come to rest between his ass cheeks. Aizen ground it against him, back and forth, as his hands moved under Ichigo's jacket and t-shirt to caress his sides. Aizen leaned over him, and teeth came to nibble at his earlobes.
"You know I can't deny you anything," Aizen said, a hot whisper against Ichigo's ear tunnel. "Whatever you want."
Bullshit, Ichigo thought, but he sure as hell wasn't going to say that to Aizen. A small brown bottle was being placed in front of him, and he made a grab for it. He unscrewed the cap and held it up to one nostril as he held his other nostril closed. He inhaled. He could feel it as the fumes hit his system, as the rush hit him. He inhaled through his other nostril, too, then placed the bottle down. Then he grabbed the edge of his desk and spread his legs out, preparing for the fucking Aizen was about to give him. Ichigo felt more relaxed already, more aroused.
Aizen had moved away while Ichigo was doing this, but now he moved back directly behind him. Aizen's cock, now slick with lubricant, rubbed against his ass. Just teasing, for now, but Ichigo was sure that wouldn't last long. Sure enough, Aizen soon pushed himself into Ichigo's ass in one smooth thrust, eliciting a kind of half-grunt, half-muffled cry from Ichigo. Aizen's hands came to Ichigo's back, pressing him down against the desk. And then he started to move.
Ichigo's mouth opened into a silent "o" as Aizen started to fuck him. He could feel all too clearly that long cock as it moved in and out of him, the pleasure that it was giving him. He always hated it, but he always felt so amazing. If only it wasn't Aizen. . . if only it was. . . but then Ichigo lost that thought as Aizen picked up the pace.
It was starting to hurt, but in a good way. In a being well-fucked kind of way. Ichigo could hear the sound of their flesh slapping together with each thrust, could hear his pleasured cries filling the room. His cock was hard and rubbing against Aizen's desk, sending pleasure out throughout his body.
"How is it, Ichigo?" Aizen asked. "How does my dick feel inside of you?"
"So good," Ichigo moaned back, because it was the truth and it was what Aizen wanted to hear. "It feels so good inside of me."
Aizen sped up his pace even more. Eventually he was fucking Ichigo so hard that Ichigo's feet were lifting off the floor with each thrust. Ichigo couldn't help but moan and cry out, it felt so good, especially with the poppers he had taken earlier.
"I'm going to come inside you, Ichigo," Aizen said. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
"Yeah. Please, do it. Fill me up, breed me."
As a reward for Ichigo's articulation, Aizen's hand reached underneath Ichigo and wrapped around his cock, jerking him off. The added stimulation was enough, and soon Ichigo spilled himself all over Aizen's desk. After that, Ichigo's attention wandered off as Aizen kept fucking him. It was some time before Aizen came, but Ichigo had no idea he long. He did, however, finally feel himself being filled with hot jizz even as Aizen kept thrusting in and out of him. Aizen fucked him for a few moments more, pace slowing as he did so, until his mostly limp cock fell out of Ichigo's hole.
"Clean me up," Aizen said, moving away.
Ichigo turned around and sunk back onto his knees, taking Aizen's limp cock back into his mouth. It tasted tangy and tart, and he kept sucking on it until it didn't taste that way anymore. Than he drew back.
"Good boy," Aizen said, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up. "Don't forget to clean up the desk as well."
Ichigo stood up and pulled up his pants, unmindful of the wet feeling running down his thighs. He walked to the sink to gather some towels as Aizen adjusted his tie and put on his jacket. Then he walked back to the desk and wiped away any visible cum before throwing the paper towels into the wastebasket.
"I won't be back home tonight," Aizen said. "I'll be busy with work. Don't worry, though, I'll be back tomorrow to keep you company. In the meantime, treat yourself and Grimmjow to a nice dinner. Come now."
Ichigo fell into step in front of Aizen as they left the office, Aizen's hand resting on his lower back. As they walked out Grimmjow stood up and fell into step behind them. Once they were out in the hall, Aizen turned toward him, a small smile on his lips.
"A goodbye kiss, Ichigo?"
Not like he had any choice in the matter. Ichigo tilted his head up as Aizen's arm tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. It was somewhat embarrassing to be doing this in front of Grimmjow, but all he could do was passively open his lips and let Aizen fuck his mouth with his tongue. He wasn't in a position to do anything else. Besides, he knew exactly why Aizen was doing this in front of Grimmjow: he was marking his territory. And Grimmjow was sufficiently cowed by Aizen, enough that he wouldn't dare touch the other man's property.
Finally Aizen let Ichigo go and unwound his arm from Ichigo's waist.
"Tomorrow, Ichigo," he said, as he called his guards forward. "Please don't be too lonely while I'm gone."
Ichigo watched as Aizen and his bodyguards walked down the hall and disappeared behind a corner. Then he turned to look at Grimmjow, but Grimmjow seemed to be glaring at some fixed spot on the floor.
"Let's go," Grimmjow said, still not looking up at him. "You're probably hungry."
Ichigo frowned but nodded, following Grimmjow back towards the elevator. For now, this was his life. He just hoped it wouldn't be like this forever.
Author's Notes
So I took a poll on what ideas I should focus on in the near future, and
these fics are the ones I'm going to prioritize for now:
1.
Sex and Control (oneshot): Due to the fact that he was kicked off his high school's team, Grimmjow ends up at a university with a third-rate football team. He fully expects the team to bow down to him, but that attitude is quickly readjusted by his coach Kenpachi, using some unconventional methods.
2.
Kept (long, plot-focused multi-part)
3.
Self-Identifying Straight Males (long, porn-focused multi-part): Renji and Ichigo are two broke straight boys in need of money when Urahara shows up with a proposition: jerk off on camera and he'll pay them. They agree to the deal, but it's not long before they're convinced to do other things for money, both on and off camera.
4.
Sex and Football and Spain (long, porn-focused multipart): The proper sequel to Sex and Football. To be honest, just going by votes this should be my top priority. Sorry, guys, but I'm a little burnt out by it (I need a break!). But knowing that people want this will ensure that I eventually will write it in the future (as long as rl cooperates). Also, to clarify a statement I made that in the sequel Grimm and Ichi get bored of monogamy, don't worry, it doesn't mean they'll get bored of each other! Just that they might have some threesomes or try swinging or something like that. In particular, I'm thinking of having Ginjou and Tsukishima show up as a couple they hook up with (and who cause some problems).
I still might get distracted by other one-shots and short multi-parts, sorry. In particular I have a few Ken/Shu one-shots in my mind that I need to get out.
