Bleach Fanfiction: Anticipation
Warning: Boy x Boy
The second he felt the familiar reiatsu, he dropped his study-notes and sprinted to the kitchen cupboard. Ripping open its door he grabbed the five pre-wrapped packages and the seven note cards, hiding each item in its pre-determined spot. On the way to his bedroom he set his iPod to the appropriate song and time. The last note card he taped to the window above his bed, secured its lock, pulled the shades down and finally closed his bedroom door with a snick of the bolt. Ichigo’s heart drummed madly as he slid to the floor and let slip a mad chuckle because he could finally put this little scheme into motion! He’d been slowly perfecting a madcap plan over the last few months, acquiring the accessories needed for it gradually. Every step closer to completing the preparation built up his anticipation exponentially. His breath hitched as the reiatsu closed in on his window. And damn was he hard.
It had started innocently enough; while mindlessly scowling at the soothing blue wall of his dentist’s waiting room, he had let a song burrow its way into his brain. As he walked to his afternoon class, a not-so-innocent interpretation of that insistent chorus occurred to him, and then one thought had led to another.
Almost every time they met Grimmjow and Ichigo fucked each other hungrily without preamble. And that was ok with Ichigo because it seemed like the Espada never showed up until Ichigo was wildly horny. As if Grimmjow had some internal Kurosaki Horniness gauge and crossed worlds only when the needle pointed red. Ichigo snorted; as if the man could exercise restraint with a libido like his. But still…it was eerily coincidental.
So Ichigo felt the need to be feisty. He felt a need for some control. He wanted to make Grimmjow fight for it, for once. Or earn it in this case.
~
Grimmjow reached to open the window. And it didn’t open.
The FUCK is this… he scowled at the note written in Ichigo’s precise hand-writing:
Of course you’d try to barge in before reading the note
Little prick, Grimmjow huffed,
Play this game for me and I’ll make it VERY worth your while,
The Rules:
First Clue: The first time.
Sliding open the glass door Grimmjow stepped into Ichigo’s small living area and strode over to the closed door and pounded on it. “You’re gonna need to replace your door in a few seconds if you don’t let me in!”
“Mmm, no. I got a new toy for you” he purred through the door, “and you won’t get to see it if you don’t play along.”
A new toy? “Fuck, fine!” Grimmjow threw himself onto the couch with a petulant flourish. The first time huh?
~
The first time they had sex was like a terrible audition for an equally terrible play; awkwardness, tension and self-consciousness for one and impatience, frustration and incredulity for the other. After nearly three months of denial and quickly hidden blushes, the kid finally lost it during a spar and crushed himself against Grimmjow, fumbling kisses at his mouth and yanking into his blue hair. Grimmjow didn’t waste time for surprise; he responded in kind, with more finesse, and soon had a boneless boy panting in his arms. Then the fucker flickered away!
So Grimmjow broke into Kurosaki’s flat the next day and ambushed him as he got back from class. The brat seemed to know it was coming but still fought his obvious desire. He kept trying to cover his blushes, kept trying to keep Grimmjow’s face away from his “privates”, kept moving when Grimmjow wanted him still, stayed still when Grimmjow wanted him squirming, and THEN tried to top. How he’d thought he was going to pull that off with success, without even knowing about The Spot, was beyond Grimmjow. But then he gave it up, searing Grimmjow with a sultry look that should have been beyond his experiences and demanded that Grimmjow fuck him, now. Then, at the same moment that he stroked a second orgasm out of that sleek, pliable body, the brat’s shinigami badge started wailing. A very embarrassed and flustered Kurosaki flailed around trying to dress, clean himself and find the badge at the same time. He gave up on the first, but found the offending item under a cushion of the couch…
~
Grimmjow lifted up one cushion, nothing there; he scooted over and found under the next cushion a lumpy package. He un-wrapped it and raised an eyebrow as he smirked. Walking to the door he dropped a black headband sporting two soft and shiny black cat ears with little pink centers. This might be interesting; his eyes lingered on the tufts at the pointed tips a few seconds longer before looking at the next note.
Second Clue: Halloween party.
~
Homing in on the brat’s energy he had found himself standing outside of a house with a deep, resounding heartbeat of music and swarming with…freaks? Everyone had been dressed up crazier than Cirucci: girls ran around in napkin-sized bits of gauze, lace, mesh and...he’d blinked when he realized one was wearing nothing but paint. Some of the guys had been normally dressed, but there were many more who wore ghastly combinations of colors, or full-body suits that looked to be made of shag carpeting, or cardboard boxes, or rubber masks, or anything they could get their hands on to look ridiculous.
He spotted Kurosaki lounging against the kitchen counter with a beer in one hand and illustrating a story with the other. The kid was still as oblivious to reiatsu as ever. Grimmjow had started heading over to him when the brat tossed his beer and mouthed to Chad that he’d be right back. He moved as quickly as he could through the press of bodies, passing in front the patio doors on the way to a hallway door, probably a bathroom. Grimmjow eyed the curtains framing the doors and smirked as he slipped behind one.
Kurosaki had yelped as Grimmjow’s hand shot out and pulled him behind the fabric. He’d had the boy gasping and mumbling into his feathery kisses as his hands roved over the lean stomach and tangled in the orange hair. No one really noticed in the dim light and deafening music. Naturally Kurosaki had put a stop to it as it started getting interesting and dragged him into a far corner of the heavily-wooded yard.
~
The curtain then. Grimmjow flicked back a drape, and there, dangling from a clothespin was another ill-wrapped package. Opening it he found two individual black thigh-high stockings. He remembered leering at Kurosaki at that same party when they had later spotted a girl wearing what he’d been informed was a “Playboy Bunny” costume. Except her thigh-highs had been white. “You’re wearing that next year,” he’d almost finished saying as the boy punched him in the jaw.
He ran his fingers along the shimmering black band at the top of one, feeling the pull of the elastic lining, imagining vividly the pale, muscled thigh that it would be gripping. He hummed at the vision. Heat was starting to pool in his groin. They slipped like liquid silk from his fingers at Kurosaki’s door. Dropping the wrapping on the coffee table he read the next clue.
Third Clue: …the Exhibition
~
Kurosaki hadn’t been at the University where Grimmjow had opened his garganta, so he let his pesquisa lead him to an art gallery. The sign out front announced that the normal content of the gallery would return after the current sensational exhibit continued its tour, but please come in and enjoy “BODIES…The Exhibition.” With a barked laugh Grimmjow went in to enjoy a body alright.
Over the months that they’d been seeing each other, the boy’s ability to sense reiatsu seemed to have been cultivated to pinpoint precision for Grimmjow’s alone. So when he walked through the doors to see Kurosaki glaring at him from the second floor balcony, a lascivious grin spread across his face. The boy turned around and disappeared through one of the three arched openings; Grimmjow slid his hands into his pockets and sauntered up the stairs after him. As he passed through the arch he had sensed the coiled potential a split-second before a lean arm snapped out from his right and fisted the shoulder of his jacket to spin him back against the wall.
“How the fuck is your timing always shit?” Kurosaki hissed into Grimmjow’s ear as he pinned the taller man’s shoulders to the wall and bit his neck in punctuation. Grimmjow just shrugged and pulled the boy’s head in for the enthusiastic kiss that would kick off this visit. “Not here,” and Grimmjow was dragged to the hall on the far side of the viewing gallery and into the bathroom at the end.
“You’ve abandoned shame I see,” Grimmjow taunted as he was led into a stall by the ravenous red-head.
Kurosaki explained, after coaxing his pants back on, that he was there to do an extra-credit assignment for his Anatomy class. Grimmjow briefly eyed the displays and announced that he’d wait outside. The BODIES exhibition was mildly disturbing. All those human specimens peeled and cut open, showing muscle and organs to any and all who wished to see. Grimmjow loved dead people. If he was the one to kill them. If they were covered in blood and had put up a good fight. These dead people were just…boring; they had no sign of previous life, no agony or bliss frozen on their faces. It wasn’t right.
On the way out Grimmjow caught a glimpse of a picture in the gift-shop, and that’s where Kurosaki found him still standing thirty minutes later.
~
Grimmjow stood in front of the picture that the boy had ended up buying, claiming that anything that captivated the Espada for that long was worth having. The black and white drawing by Escher had been framed and hung on the wall by the door. Kurosaki had once told him, after catching his eyes follow the depicted canal and waterfall for the umpteenth time, that Grimmjow reminded him of a cat watching a fish in a fishbowl. That he expected an angry paw to swipe out and attempt to stop the columns in the picture from visually slipping into impossible angles. Of course Grimmjow responded by pouncing on him for a fight, but the boy had just laughed a throaty laugh and grabbed his cock instead.
The picture sat unevenly against the wall, so he pulled it forward and pulled the next package out from behind the frame. Grimmjow slowly tongued one of his canines as he examined what he’d unwrapped. Buttery soft, supple, black leather seduced his fingers as he unfolded the briefs. He could imagine how they’d circle Kurosaki’s hips and hug his cheeks like a glove. A very, very sexy leather glove. He wanted to run his tongue up the crotch to taste the softness, but knew that he could do that with much more satisfaction when they actually encased that delicious piece of meat. He groaned with the imagery. He set the briefs down at the door. The kid was tempting fate if he had more things hidden away; Grimmjow was already rock hard from the memories and looking down at the ears, thigh-highs and underwear he couldn’t imagine what more they’d need to fuel a good day or six of animal fucking.
But there was another note in the wrapping paper. Grimmjow growled.
Fourth Clue: The Bite
~
He’d just hopped through the boy’s window to see him rolling up the long sleeves on a pale blue v-neck tee that was at least two sizes too tight. His eyes glanced down and saw the pencil slim navy slacks that must have been painted on. “Aw, you dressed up for me?”
“To just have you tear it all off?” Kurosaki scoffed. “No, Rukia decided she wanted to experience clubbing and Yumichika, and consequently half of Soul Society, got wind of it, and before you say anything…even suicide wouldn’t get me out of this,” his glare challenged Grimmjow to come up with a way out.
“Just say no.”
“I did. Then I was told to be there at 10 or they’d tell Kenpachi where I live.”
“Sucker,” he hopped on the bed and curled up to nap till his brat came back.
“Birds of a feather. You’re coming with me.” The boy appeared above him, straddling his body and rolling his hips into Grimmjow’s crotch and cut off a protest with a heated kiss. “I’ll let you tie me up when we get back.” Kurosaki’s low whisper was full of promise and burned straight down his spine to his cock.
He wasn’t going to argue with incentive like that.
“Urahara’s is on the way so we’ll pick up your gigai.”
“Fuck no. No.” The kid had then come up to him, caressed his turgid length through his hakama and moaned into his neck that it was such a pity because he wanted to be marked, to be owned by such a wild and powerful body. Grimmjow still had his mouth hanging open, standing alone in the room, when Kurosaki’s feet hit the sidewalk outside.
“Are you fidgeting?” Kurosaki exclaimed.
“’S just fuckin’ hot in here,” Grimmjow mumbled irritably. The gigai made him feel like he was being pinched right between his shoulder blades and it made him want to claw up a wall. The raucous hyena laughter of most of the women here made him want to rip out their throats with his fangs. The brat’s annoying shinigami friends made him want to hamstring every fool who’d no doubt be in his way when he started maiming the women. The loud music made him want to -
“Want me to make it hotter?” The boy breathed in his ear. Grimmjow’s pants tightened. “Or judging by the murder in your eyes, want me to cool you down?” An orange eyebrow lifted in question.
“Does that involve us leaving this shit-hole?”
A throaty chuckle, “Not yet.” Kurosaki tossed the rest of his drink back and began chewing on the ice. The girl with the tits and glasses-boy were the last to head to the dance floor, leaving them alone at the VIP booth in relative peace. The boy kept chewing more ice. Noisily. Grimmjow closed his eye and let his head fall back, perhaps if he tried to mentally map out all the halls of Las Noches he could find some relief. He felt Kurosaki moving around next to him. Who was fidgeting now?
His eye shot open as he felt hands undo his belt and pull down his zipper. “The fuck?”
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride,” the kid grinned from under the table. Then those lips wrapped themselves around his girth; and his eyes widened even more as he yelped.
“I don’t need you to cool me down there,” he ground out. It was like his teeth were made of ice, the punk. Grimmjow tried to shimmy further back into the booth, but strong hands held him in place as that cold tongue licked a wet trail of fire up his length. One hand left his hip and started to fondle his testicles. His mouth soaked up the heat that kept pouring into Grimmjow’s swollen cock, and his tongue continued to elicit pants and moans.
Grimmjow sensed that someone had come incredibly close to sitting back down with them, but after he let slip a low growl, whoever it was stiffened and hurried away. He sighed, the boy’s mouth was like an oasis in this desert of idiocy. He threaded fingers through the orange hair and rocked his hips in time with the bobbing of Kurosaki’s head. All of a sudden it wasn’t enough. His hand circled the boy’s bicep and tugged gently, “I need you in my lap, right now,” he said huskily.
Kurosaki slid out from under the table and hesitated, appraising lust-clouded blue eyes; he seemed to come to a decision. With a wicked grin he straddled Grimmjow’s lap and licked up his jaw-line. As his belt and slacks were undone and pulled down enough to allow access while still allowing him to keep his legs spread, Grimmjow pointed out, “They’ll know. One of them already tried to sit back down.”
“Yeah, I know, but they’ll still be my friends tomorrow,” a brief kiss to his lips, “and those we don’t know will have something to spank to late-r,” his voice hitched as Grimmjow’s saliva-slicked fingers slipped passed the ringed muscles. Closely followed by his hot, thick member.
Later that night, while Kurosaki was tied face down and spread eagle to the bed posts, and while an incredibly aroused Grimmjow was fully seated to the hilt, the Espada popped an ice-cube in his mouth, rolled it around his tongue and then released his sword.
The kid stiffened instantly with the shocking surge of reiatsu, and just as instantly let out a deep, wanton moan as little ripples of pressure washed over his prostate. As he ground his hips insistently back onto Grimmjow’s cock, he realized that the resurreccion’s armor thankfully didn’t extend to that appendage. The grinding got a deep, rumbling purr of appreciation from Grimmjow, and as the last of the ice was chewed up he sank his long, cold fangs brutally into the muscle of Kurosaki’s shoulder.
~
Grimmjow stood in the middle of the living area stroking himself slowly with a painfully tight grip. That bite had finally healed the last time he was here two weeks ago, and it left a beautiful scar. The kid seemed to genuinely like it too. He growled possessively. Ice. It had to be in the freezer. And it better be the fucking last piece. He yanked open the freezer; he’d been right, there sat another package. This one however, had a note on the outside:
This is not the last piece,
But if you’re too much of a pussy
To restrain yourself anymore,
You can come tell me you lose.
No toy though.
“You fucking tease!” Grimmjow howled.
He ripped open the wrapping…and forgot to breath.
Oh.
Fuck.
Yes.
He ran his fingers over the four connected spheres of stainless steel. The one at the tip was the smallest, and they got consecutively bigger; after the fourth one the width narrowed then flared drastically to end in a flat disc. And fixed solidly to the end of the plug was, Oh fuck YESSSSSSSSS, an extremely soft, silky, black, three-foot long cat tail. If he so much as touched his dick right this minute, he’d come. So, instead, he’d fuck the living breath out of the little slut, right fucking now. And then he’d slide the tail in him and make him wear it for a week. With the ears. Everywhere. Except when they fucked again, every hour at least. His cock was leaking magnificently with precum. His breaths were short and fast. He had crackling lightning bolts of lust and anticipation shooting through his groin, gut and chest. He was at the bedroom door with one sonido step, foot raised to kick it in -
“Really, you can’t hold out a few minutes more?” Kurosaki’s laughing voice floated through the lust-induced haze.
“…You can come tell me you lose…” Fuck that, he’d never lose to this brat. And if this wasn’t the “toy,” he couldn’t imagine what could possibly top this. So he could hold out.
“Fuck you Kurosaki!” Laughter again, but was that a touch of hysteria? The tail landed on top of the briefs.
He stomped back to the freezer and snatched up the fifth note.
The next note is taped to the back of the bathroom door.
Grimmjow marched down the little hall into the bathroom and slammed the door to find the note. It took him a second to see a corner of it peeking out from behind the full-length mirror. It read:
In the living room, hit the play button on my iPod
After you hit play, you’ll find the last piece behind the left speaker.
What a waste of time. Why not just point to the speaker from the freezer. Oh. There was no longer anything in front of the bedroom door. Grimmjow leaned down and saw flashing on the iPod’s display the number 1:30. He hit play, didn’t pay any attention to the music assaulting his ears, though the bitch’s voice was high-pitched and annoying, and reached for the last piece.
He hastily un-wrapped it and understood. His dick twitched and there certainly was not a very light flutter in his chest. While not as erotic as the tail, this was that much better. Held lightly in his fingers was a thick, stiff black leather collar with four equally-spaced D-rings, an engraved plate that read Property of Grimmjow and opposite the plate, a bell. And the words filling the air reached his brain.
You can ring my be~e~ll, ring my bell,
You can ring my be~e~ll, ring my bell.
How long could he keep the bell ringing? As long as it takes for his dick to fall off. As long as it takes for the neighbors to call the police because of an odd ringing noise coming form that Kurosaki boy’s place. As long as a human can live without food and sleep. And then he heard the door open behind him. His mind put all the pieces together; and given how amazing the mental picture was of the boy wearing nothing but what had been at his door, he had a fleeting worry that he’d tear the kid to pieces when faced with the reality. But it was gone in an instant, this was Kurosaki, he was layered with steel and would live through it. As the lyrics echoed through his head, he turned.
And his heart stopped at what he saw. Time stopped at what he saw.
The building anticipation that had spread like an electrical storm through his gut, chest and limbs during his scavenger hunt instantly dissipated; what was left was pure silence and bated breath.
Grimmjow’s eyes ravaged the body before him, traveling up the long, long legs that were obscenely alluring in those stockings. The pale skin above the elastic grip was inviting him to lick it, to nip it, to bruise it in a crushing grip as he pounded into that body. The muscles at each hip dipped sinfully into the supple leather that clung to every curve of his hips and ragingly hard erection, as if crooking a finger in beckoning. Grimmjow’s eyes followed every ridge of every muscle up the firm stomach and heaving chest before him.
His eyes followed the lines of the prominent collar bones; caressed those broad shoulders, saw the artery beating in his delicious neck and finally looked into the face of sex. Delirious eyes watched him through long lashes. His cheeks were flushed a most provocative shade of pink. His mouth was slightly open and puffing out breathy pants. And the lips that framed it, they were glistening and swollen from his anticipation, how he must have been licking them, sucking on them. And the ears, such a sharp contrast to his bright orange hair, imbued him with an aura of prey that enraged the already salivating predator in Grimmjow. His eyes flick down to the boy’s hand and saw those clever long fingers wrapped loosely around the tail.
An irresistible combination of wild orange, shining black and cream, Kurosaki was a wet-dream on long, lean legs.
“Do I have to put that collar on myself?” The boy’s voice was rough with lust.
~
Ichigo stood at his door, right elbow on the door frame and his left arm relaxed at his side lightly holding his silky black tail. The pressure of the plug kept him teetering on the edge of absolute mindless lust. But he knew that the look in Grimmjow’s eyes would be the finger that tipped him over.
He had been imagining every single step that the Espada would have taken for every clue. He had re-lived every memory with Grimmjow as he listened to the man’s progress; every moan, every hum, every sigh that came from the other room had him fluttering his fingers over his nipples and aching penis. And after he’d rubbed his hands furiously over the steel of the plug to warm it up, he’d had to exercise more control than he knew he had not to come as he slid it agonizing ball after agonizing ball into his tight entrance. He could barely breathe.
Ichigo took in Grimmjow’s expressions, how they went from breathless wonder to salacious appraisal and finally to unadulterated desire to own.
God, was he just going to stand there? “Do I have to put that collar on myself?” The simple vibration from his own voice almost put him over; but then Grimmjow was behind him, his overbearing heat suffocating Ichigo. As he latched the collar onto Ichigo’s neck, he moved a hand down to rip out the tail. An iron grip stopped the hand. “You’ll have to bear with me, ahh, a second more,” Grimmjow ran his palm around a thigh, and chuckled at the sound he pulled from Ichigo.
Ichigo reached to the inner doorknob of his room, brought the simple leash out and hooked it to one of the rings. And before Grimmjow could move, the sight of the leash having stunned him for an instant, Ichigo ripped his hakama from his legs and barreled him onto the couch. Hopping in the naked lap, Ichigo ground his erection into the other man’s, and as his hands slid up that gorgeous chest he bit hard into Grimmjow’s neck, then sucked for life as he came with a thundering explosion.
~
Grimmjow lost all sense when he saw the leash, and when he felt hard length assaulting his own he couldn’t hold it any longer, he’d been strung so tightly. The teeth broke his skin the same instant that he spilled his hot seed across his stomach.
With a little chime of the bell the boy pulled back and gasped out, “Well that’s out of the way.”
He tugged on the leash to bring the boys face millimeters away from his own, the bell chimed again, “Ichigo,” he rasped out, the boy’s cock was instantly hard against his abdomen, “I hope you know you’re not leaving this apartment for at. least. a. week.”
The second he felt the familiar reiatsu, he dropped his study-notes and sprinted to the kitchen cupboard. Ripping open its door he grabbed the five pre-wrapped packages and the seven note cards, hiding each item in its pre-determined spot. On the way to his bedroom he set his iPod to the appropriate song and time. The last note card he taped to the window above his bed, secured its lock, pulled the shades down and finally closed his bedroom door with a snick of the bolt. Ichigo’s heart drummed madly as he slid to the floor and let slip a mad chuckle because he could finally put this little scheme into motion! He’d been slowly perfecting a madcap plan over the last few months, acquiring the accessories needed for it gradually. Every step closer to completing the preparation built up his anticipation exponentially. His breath hitched as the reiatsu closed in on his window. And damn was he hard.
It had started innocently enough; while mindlessly scowling at the soothing blue wall of his dentist’s waiting room, he had let a song burrow its way into his brain. As he walked to his afternoon class, a not-so-innocent interpretation of that insistent chorus occurred to him, and then one thought had led to another.
Almost every time they met Grimmjow and Ichigo fucked each other hungrily without preamble. And that was ok with Ichigo because it seemed like the Espada never showed up until Ichigo was wildly horny. As if Grimmjow had some internal Kurosaki Horniness gauge and crossed worlds only when the needle pointed red. Ichigo snorted; as if the man could exercise restraint with a libido like his. But still…it was eerily coincidental.
So Ichigo felt the need to be feisty. He felt a need for some control. He wanted to make Grimmjow fight for it, for once. Or earn it in this case.
~
Grimmjow reached to open the window. And it didn’t open.
The FUCK is this… he scowled at the note written in Ichigo’s precise hand-writing:
Of course you’d try to barge in before reading the note
Little prick, Grimmjow huffed,
Play this game for me and I’ll make it VERY worth your while,
The Rules:
- Read the clue
- Find the hidden item and next clue (balcony door unlocked)
- Place item at bedroom door
- Repeat
First Clue: The first time.
Sliding open the glass door Grimmjow stepped into Ichigo’s small living area and strode over to the closed door and pounded on it. “You’re gonna need to replace your door in a few seconds if you don’t let me in!”
“Mmm, no. I got a new toy for you” he purred through the door, “and you won’t get to see it if you don’t play along.”
A new toy? “Fuck, fine!” Grimmjow threw himself onto the couch with a petulant flourish. The first time huh?
~
The first time they had sex was like a terrible audition for an equally terrible play; awkwardness, tension and self-consciousness for one and impatience, frustration and incredulity for the other. After nearly three months of denial and quickly hidden blushes, the kid finally lost it during a spar and crushed himself against Grimmjow, fumbling kisses at his mouth and yanking into his blue hair. Grimmjow didn’t waste time for surprise; he responded in kind, with more finesse, and soon had a boneless boy panting in his arms. Then the fucker flickered away!
So Grimmjow broke into Kurosaki’s flat the next day and ambushed him as he got back from class. The brat seemed to know it was coming but still fought his obvious desire. He kept trying to cover his blushes, kept trying to keep Grimmjow’s face away from his “privates”, kept moving when Grimmjow wanted him still, stayed still when Grimmjow wanted him squirming, and THEN tried to top. How he’d thought he was going to pull that off with success, without even knowing about The Spot, was beyond Grimmjow. But then he gave it up, searing Grimmjow with a sultry look that should have been beyond his experiences and demanded that Grimmjow fuck him, now. Then, at the same moment that he stroked a second orgasm out of that sleek, pliable body, the brat’s shinigami badge started wailing. A very embarrassed and flustered Kurosaki flailed around trying to dress, clean himself and find the badge at the same time. He gave up on the first, but found the offending item under a cushion of the couch…
~
Grimmjow lifted up one cushion, nothing there; he scooted over and found under the next cushion a lumpy package. He un-wrapped it and raised an eyebrow as he smirked. Walking to the door he dropped a black headband sporting two soft and shiny black cat ears with little pink centers. This might be interesting; his eyes lingered on the tufts at the pointed tips a few seconds longer before looking at the next note.
Second Clue: Halloween party.
~
Homing in on the brat’s energy he had found himself standing outside of a house with a deep, resounding heartbeat of music and swarming with…freaks? Everyone had been dressed up crazier than Cirucci: girls ran around in napkin-sized bits of gauze, lace, mesh and...he’d blinked when he realized one was wearing nothing but paint. Some of the guys had been normally dressed, but there were many more who wore ghastly combinations of colors, or full-body suits that looked to be made of shag carpeting, or cardboard boxes, or rubber masks, or anything they could get their hands on to look ridiculous.
He spotted Kurosaki lounging against the kitchen counter with a beer in one hand and illustrating a story with the other. The kid was still as oblivious to reiatsu as ever. Grimmjow had started heading over to him when the brat tossed his beer and mouthed to Chad that he’d be right back. He moved as quickly as he could through the press of bodies, passing in front the patio doors on the way to a hallway door, probably a bathroom. Grimmjow eyed the curtains framing the doors and smirked as he slipped behind one.
Kurosaki had yelped as Grimmjow’s hand shot out and pulled him behind the fabric. He’d had the boy gasping and mumbling into his feathery kisses as his hands roved over the lean stomach and tangled in the orange hair. No one really noticed in the dim light and deafening music. Naturally Kurosaki had put a stop to it as it started getting interesting and dragged him into a far corner of the heavily-wooded yard.
~
The curtain then. Grimmjow flicked back a drape, and there, dangling from a clothespin was another ill-wrapped package. Opening it he found two individual black thigh-high stockings. He remembered leering at Kurosaki at that same party when they had later spotted a girl wearing what he’d been informed was a “Playboy Bunny” costume. Except her thigh-highs had been white. “You’re wearing that next year,” he’d almost finished saying as the boy punched him in the jaw.
He ran his fingers along the shimmering black band at the top of one, feeling the pull of the elastic lining, imagining vividly the pale, muscled thigh that it would be gripping. He hummed at the vision. Heat was starting to pool in his groin. They slipped like liquid silk from his fingers at Kurosaki’s door. Dropping the wrapping on the coffee table he read the next clue.
Third Clue: …the Exhibition
~
Kurosaki hadn’t been at the University where Grimmjow had opened his garganta, so he let his pesquisa lead him to an art gallery. The sign out front announced that the normal content of the gallery would return after the current sensational exhibit continued its tour, but please come in and enjoy “BODIES…The Exhibition.” With a barked laugh Grimmjow went in to enjoy a body alright.
Over the months that they’d been seeing each other, the boy’s ability to sense reiatsu seemed to have been cultivated to pinpoint precision for Grimmjow’s alone. So when he walked through the doors to see Kurosaki glaring at him from the second floor balcony, a lascivious grin spread across his face. The boy turned around and disappeared through one of the three arched openings; Grimmjow slid his hands into his pockets and sauntered up the stairs after him. As he passed through the arch he had sensed the coiled potential a split-second before a lean arm snapped out from his right and fisted the shoulder of his jacket to spin him back against the wall.
“How the fuck is your timing always shit?” Kurosaki hissed into Grimmjow’s ear as he pinned the taller man’s shoulders to the wall and bit his neck in punctuation. Grimmjow just shrugged and pulled the boy’s head in for the enthusiastic kiss that would kick off this visit. “Not here,” and Grimmjow was dragged to the hall on the far side of the viewing gallery and into the bathroom at the end.
“You’ve abandoned shame I see,” Grimmjow taunted as he was led into a stall by the ravenous red-head.
Kurosaki explained, after coaxing his pants back on, that he was there to do an extra-credit assignment for his Anatomy class. Grimmjow briefly eyed the displays and announced that he’d wait outside. The BODIES exhibition was mildly disturbing. All those human specimens peeled and cut open, showing muscle and organs to any and all who wished to see. Grimmjow loved dead people. If he was the one to kill them. If they were covered in blood and had put up a good fight. These dead people were just…boring; they had no sign of previous life, no agony or bliss frozen on their faces. It wasn’t right.
On the way out Grimmjow caught a glimpse of a picture in the gift-shop, and that’s where Kurosaki found him still standing thirty minutes later.
~
Grimmjow stood in front of the picture that the boy had ended up buying, claiming that anything that captivated the Espada for that long was worth having. The black and white drawing by Escher had been framed and hung on the wall by the door. Kurosaki had once told him, after catching his eyes follow the depicted canal and waterfall for the umpteenth time, that Grimmjow reminded him of a cat watching a fish in a fishbowl. That he expected an angry paw to swipe out and attempt to stop the columns in the picture from visually slipping into impossible angles. Of course Grimmjow responded by pouncing on him for a fight, but the boy had just laughed a throaty laugh and grabbed his cock instead.
The picture sat unevenly against the wall, so he pulled it forward and pulled the next package out from behind the frame. Grimmjow slowly tongued one of his canines as he examined what he’d unwrapped. Buttery soft, supple, black leather seduced his fingers as he unfolded the briefs. He could imagine how they’d circle Kurosaki’s hips and hug his cheeks like a glove. A very, very sexy leather glove. He wanted to run his tongue up the crotch to taste the softness, but knew that he could do that with much more satisfaction when they actually encased that delicious piece of meat. He groaned with the imagery. He set the briefs down at the door. The kid was tempting fate if he had more things hidden away; Grimmjow was already rock hard from the memories and looking down at the ears, thigh-highs and underwear he couldn’t imagine what more they’d need to fuel a good day or six of animal fucking.
But there was another note in the wrapping paper. Grimmjow growled.
Fourth Clue: The Bite
~
He’d just hopped through the boy’s window to see him rolling up the long sleeves on a pale blue v-neck tee that was at least two sizes too tight. His eyes glanced down and saw the pencil slim navy slacks that must have been painted on. “Aw, you dressed up for me?”
“To just have you tear it all off?” Kurosaki scoffed. “No, Rukia decided she wanted to experience clubbing and Yumichika, and consequently half of Soul Society, got wind of it, and before you say anything…even suicide wouldn’t get me out of this,” his glare challenged Grimmjow to come up with a way out.
“Just say no.”
“I did. Then I was told to be there at 10 or they’d tell Kenpachi where I live.”
“Sucker,” he hopped on the bed and curled up to nap till his brat came back.
“Birds of a feather. You’re coming with me.” The boy appeared above him, straddling his body and rolling his hips into Grimmjow’s crotch and cut off a protest with a heated kiss. “I’ll let you tie me up when we get back.” Kurosaki’s low whisper was full of promise and burned straight down his spine to his cock.
He wasn’t going to argue with incentive like that.
“Urahara’s is on the way so we’ll pick up your gigai.”
“Fuck no. No.” The kid had then come up to him, caressed his turgid length through his hakama and moaned into his neck that it was such a pity because he wanted to be marked, to be owned by such a wild and powerful body. Grimmjow still had his mouth hanging open, standing alone in the room, when Kurosaki’s feet hit the sidewalk outside.
“Are you fidgeting?” Kurosaki exclaimed.
“’S just fuckin’ hot in here,” Grimmjow mumbled irritably. The gigai made him feel like he was being pinched right between his shoulder blades and it made him want to claw up a wall. The raucous hyena laughter of most of the women here made him want to rip out their throats with his fangs. The brat’s annoying shinigami friends made him want to hamstring every fool who’d no doubt be in his way when he started maiming the women. The loud music made him want to -
“Want me to make it hotter?” The boy breathed in his ear. Grimmjow’s pants tightened. “Or judging by the murder in your eyes, want me to cool you down?” An orange eyebrow lifted in question.
“Does that involve us leaving this shit-hole?”
A throaty chuckle, “Not yet.” Kurosaki tossed the rest of his drink back and began chewing on the ice. The girl with the tits and glasses-boy were the last to head to the dance floor, leaving them alone at the VIP booth in relative peace. The boy kept chewing more ice. Noisily. Grimmjow closed his eye and let his head fall back, perhaps if he tried to mentally map out all the halls of Las Noches he could find some relief. He felt Kurosaki moving around next to him. Who was fidgeting now?
His eye shot open as he felt hands undo his belt and pull down his zipper. “The fuck?”
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride,” the kid grinned from under the table. Then those lips wrapped themselves around his girth; and his eyes widened even more as he yelped.
“I don’t need you to cool me down there,” he ground out. It was like his teeth were made of ice, the punk. Grimmjow tried to shimmy further back into the booth, but strong hands held him in place as that cold tongue licked a wet trail of fire up his length. One hand left his hip and started to fondle his testicles. His mouth soaked up the heat that kept pouring into Grimmjow’s swollen cock, and his tongue continued to elicit pants and moans.
Grimmjow sensed that someone had come incredibly close to sitting back down with them, but after he let slip a low growl, whoever it was stiffened and hurried away. He sighed, the boy’s mouth was like an oasis in this desert of idiocy. He threaded fingers through the orange hair and rocked his hips in time with the bobbing of Kurosaki’s head. All of a sudden it wasn’t enough. His hand circled the boy’s bicep and tugged gently, “I need you in my lap, right now,” he said huskily.
Kurosaki slid out from under the table and hesitated, appraising lust-clouded blue eyes; he seemed to come to a decision. With a wicked grin he straddled Grimmjow’s lap and licked up his jaw-line. As his belt and slacks were undone and pulled down enough to allow access while still allowing him to keep his legs spread, Grimmjow pointed out, “They’ll know. One of them already tried to sit back down.”
“Yeah, I know, but they’ll still be my friends tomorrow,” a brief kiss to his lips, “and those we don’t know will have something to spank to late-r,” his voice hitched as Grimmjow’s saliva-slicked fingers slipped passed the ringed muscles. Closely followed by his hot, thick member.
Later that night, while Kurosaki was tied face down and spread eagle to the bed posts, and while an incredibly aroused Grimmjow was fully seated to the hilt, the Espada popped an ice-cube in his mouth, rolled it around his tongue and then released his sword.
The kid stiffened instantly with the shocking surge of reiatsu, and just as instantly let out a deep, wanton moan as little ripples of pressure washed over his prostate. As he ground his hips insistently back onto Grimmjow’s cock, he realized that the resurreccion’s armor thankfully didn’t extend to that appendage. The grinding got a deep, rumbling purr of appreciation from Grimmjow, and as the last of the ice was chewed up he sank his long, cold fangs brutally into the muscle of Kurosaki’s shoulder.
~
Grimmjow stood in the middle of the living area stroking himself slowly with a painfully tight grip. That bite had finally healed the last time he was here two weeks ago, and it left a beautiful scar. The kid seemed to genuinely like it too. He growled possessively. Ice. It had to be in the freezer. And it better be the fucking last piece. He yanked open the freezer; he’d been right, there sat another package. This one however, had a note on the outside:
This is not the last piece,
But if you’re too much of a pussy
To restrain yourself anymore,
You can come tell me you lose.
No toy though.
“You fucking tease!” Grimmjow howled.
He ripped open the wrapping…and forgot to breath.
Oh.
Fuck.
Yes.
He ran his fingers over the four connected spheres of stainless steel. The one at the tip was the smallest, and they got consecutively bigger; after the fourth one the width narrowed then flared drastically to end in a flat disc. And fixed solidly to the end of the plug was, Oh fuck YESSSSSSSSS, an extremely soft, silky, black, three-foot long cat tail. If he so much as touched his dick right this minute, he’d come. So, instead, he’d fuck the living breath out of the little slut, right fucking now. And then he’d slide the tail in him and make him wear it for a week. With the ears. Everywhere. Except when they fucked again, every hour at least. His cock was leaking magnificently with precum. His breaths were short and fast. He had crackling lightning bolts of lust and anticipation shooting through his groin, gut and chest. He was at the bedroom door with one sonido step, foot raised to kick it in -
“Really, you can’t hold out a few minutes more?” Kurosaki’s laughing voice floated through the lust-induced haze.
“…You can come tell me you lose…” Fuck that, he’d never lose to this brat. And if this wasn’t the “toy,” he couldn’t imagine what could possibly top this. So he could hold out.
“Fuck you Kurosaki!” Laughter again, but was that a touch of hysteria? The tail landed on top of the briefs.
He stomped back to the freezer and snatched up the fifth note.
The next note is taped to the back of the bathroom door.
Grimmjow marched down the little hall into the bathroom and slammed the door to find the note. It took him a second to see a corner of it peeking out from behind the full-length mirror. It read:
In the living room, hit the play button on my iPod
After you hit play, you’ll find the last piece behind the left speaker.
What a waste of time. Why not just point to the speaker from the freezer. Oh. There was no longer anything in front of the bedroom door. Grimmjow leaned down and saw flashing on the iPod’s display the number 1:30. He hit play, didn’t pay any attention to the music assaulting his ears, though the bitch’s voice was high-pitched and annoying, and reached for the last piece.
He hastily un-wrapped it and understood. His dick twitched and there certainly was not a very light flutter in his chest. While not as erotic as the tail, this was that much better. Held lightly in his fingers was a thick, stiff black leather collar with four equally-spaced D-rings, an engraved plate that read Property of Grimmjow and opposite the plate, a bell. And the words filling the air reached his brain.
You can ring my be~e~ll, ring my bell,
You can ring my be~e~ll, ring my bell.
How long could he keep the bell ringing? As long as it takes for his dick to fall off. As long as it takes for the neighbors to call the police because of an odd ringing noise coming form that Kurosaki boy’s place. As long as a human can live without food and sleep. And then he heard the door open behind him. His mind put all the pieces together; and given how amazing the mental picture was of the boy wearing nothing but what had been at his door, he had a fleeting worry that he’d tear the kid to pieces when faced with the reality. But it was gone in an instant, this was Kurosaki, he was layered with steel and would live through it. As the lyrics echoed through his head, he turned.
And his heart stopped at what he saw. Time stopped at what he saw.
The building anticipation that had spread like an electrical storm through his gut, chest and limbs during his scavenger hunt instantly dissipated; what was left was pure silence and bated breath.
Grimmjow’s eyes ravaged the body before him, traveling up the long, long legs that were obscenely alluring in those stockings. The pale skin above the elastic grip was inviting him to lick it, to nip it, to bruise it in a crushing grip as he pounded into that body. The muscles at each hip dipped sinfully into the supple leather that clung to every curve of his hips and ragingly hard erection, as if crooking a finger in beckoning. Grimmjow’s eyes followed every ridge of every muscle up the firm stomach and heaving chest before him.
His eyes followed the lines of the prominent collar bones; caressed those broad shoulders, saw the artery beating in his delicious neck and finally looked into the face of sex. Delirious eyes watched him through long lashes. His cheeks were flushed a most provocative shade of pink. His mouth was slightly open and puffing out breathy pants. And the lips that framed it, they were glistening and swollen from his anticipation, how he must have been licking them, sucking on them. And the ears, such a sharp contrast to his bright orange hair, imbued him with an aura of prey that enraged the already salivating predator in Grimmjow. His eyes flick down to the boy’s hand and saw those clever long fingers wrapped loosely around the tail.
An irresistible combination of wild orange, shining black and cream, Kurosaki was a wet-dream on long, lean legs.
“Do I have to put that collar on myself?” The boy’s voice was rough with lust.
~
Ichigo stood at his door, right elbow on the door frame and his left arm relaxed at his side lightly holding his silky black tail. The pressure of the plug kept him teetering on the edge of absolute mindless lust. But he knew that the look in Grimmjow’s eyes would be the finger that tipped him over.
He had been imagining every single step that the Espada would have taken for every clue. He had re-lived every memory with Grimmjow as he listened to the man’s progress; every moan, every hum, every sigh that came from the other room had him fluttering his fingers over his nipples and aching penis. And after he’d rubbed his hands furiously over the steel of the plug to warm it up, he’d had to exercise more control than he knew he had not to come as he slid it agonizing ball after agonizing ball into his tight entrance. He could barely breathe.
Ichigo took in Grimmjow’s expressions, how they went from breathless wonder to salacious appraisal and finally to unadulterated desire to own.
God, was he just going to stand there? “Do I have to put that collar on myself?” The simple vibration from his own voice almost put him over; but then Grimmjow was behind him, his overbearing heat suffocating Ichigo. As he latched the collar onto Ichigo’s neck, he moved a hand down to rip out the tail. An iron grip stopped the hand. “You’ll have to bear with me, ahh, a second more,” Grimmjow ran his palm around a thigh, and chuckled at the sound he pulled from Ichigo.
Ichigo reached to the inner doorknob of his room, brought the simple leash out and hooked it to one of the rings. And before Grimmjow could move, the sight of the leash having stunned him for an instant, Ichigo ripped his hakama from his legs and barreled him onto the couch. Hopping in the naked lap, Ichigo ground his erection into the other man’s, and as his hands slid up that gorgeous chest he bit hard into Grimmjow’s neck, then sucked for life as he came with a thundering explosion.
~
Grimmjow lost all sense when he saw the leash, and when he felt hard length assaulting his own he couldn’t hold it any longer, he’d been strung so tightly. The teeth broke his skin the same instant that he spilled his hot seed across his stomach.
With a little chime of the bell the boy pulled back and gasped out, “Well that’s out of the way.”
He tugged on the leash to bring the boys face millimeters away from his own, the bell chimed again, “Ichigo,” he rasped out, the boy’s cock was instantly hard against his abdomen, “I hope you know you’re not leaving this apartment for at. least. a. week.”