Chapter Text
If you could be held
I would hold you
Poem by Francis Driscoll
-
The sun had set on shinigami heaven when Ichigo introduced Grimmjow to the humid and tranquil air of the healing hot springs. The hot springs themselves were lit with a low light from both within the pools themselves and by hanging netted fixtures that swayed lightly in the gentle breeze. Grimmjow took a deep breath through his nose and something within him seemed to settle with the night. Ichigo almost thought he imagined it when he saw a silvery reflective sheen enter the Arrancar’s eyes when they caught the light.
Can Grimmjow see in the dark? Ichigo opened his mouth to ask the question, but Grimmjow turned and walked away from him to do his own inspection of their surroundings, so Ichigo decided to wait on that one.
Instead, Ichigo made a quick stop to the bathshed and grabbed a few towels and some spare clean clothes for them to use, while the Arrancar peeked into the various empty baths curiously. Grimmjow pointed to the red pool where there was someone soaking motionlessly, possibly drowning, and Ichigo shook his head.
“They’re fine,” Ichigo said “That’s normal. Come on, there’s a more secluded one over there that I usually go to.”
Grimmjow shrugged, and then winced in discomfort with a frown. Without ceremony he yanked his ruined black shirt off over his head, exposing his heavily scarred chest. His wounds had already crusted with blood from their recent fight, looking sore but healing. Ichigo’s breath caught in his throat.
The muscles of his chest and stomach were stunningly beautiful, even mangled as they were by Ichigo’s own hands. He felt a complicated mix of shame and arousal admiring his handiwork.
It wasn’t one-sided, he reminded himself.
Although it was Ichigo who had left the damage on Grimmjow’s skin, it wasn’t like he’d been abusive towards him. Ichigo’s own body was covered in neat stinging slices from the Arrancar’s nails. It was both mutual and consensual.
That knowledge didn’t stop Ichigo from aching to care for him now. Was that hypocritical?
Was it allowed?
What kind of relationship was this where he was more confident in his position of dealing damage than he was with being gentle? Probably the ‘natural’ one that occurred between Hollow and Shinigami since the beginning of time.
Involuntarily Ichigo’s eyes inched lower to the sheer hole that cut through his lower abdominal muscles. Grimmjow’s hollow hole had been something that had occupied Ichigo’s mind several times since they’d last met in Hueco Mundo.
And there it was. Pitch black and perfectly round, centered above his hip bones. Novel, interesting, and paradoxical, just like the man himself.
He didn’t think he had a fixation on it per say, but he didn’t find any of the other Arrancar’s voids nearly as captivating, so maybe he could stand to read into that a little more if he was being honest. But who exactly was he fooling here?
What did it feel like? How does his spine work with a hole like that? Could Grimmjow put stuff in there? Is it ticklish?
It was something he was very interested in. More so than even his tail in his release form, which Ichigo had a whole slew of other questions around.
Ichigo stiffened. Oh. God.
What Ichigo had not been prepared for was just below the hole; the start of electric blue pubic hair that disappeared into the low riding waistband of his tight black pants.
Ichigo felt his mouth fill with saliva at a frankly alarming rate. That was probably a ‘natural’ response too… right?
He swallowed thickly.
From what might as well have been another dimension, Grimmjow spoke, his hands coming up to rest on his hips distractingly.
“Huh?” Ichigo managed.
“I said,” Grimmjow repeated disbelievingly, “What happened to you? You didn’t used to be so obvious.” Grimmjow cocked his head to the side. “Finally go through puberty or something?”
He’d caught him staring, deliberately and blatantly.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Ichigo, mortified, buried his face in his hand. He had no excuse. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Grimmjow said simply, amused.
“No, I should apologize. I don’t know why I’m like this with you.” Ichigo sighed self-deprecatingly. “It’s not polite.”
Grimmjow huffed out through his nose, “good thing I don’t care if you’re polite.”
“I care,” Ichigo complained.
“Kurosaki, you can look if you want.” Ichigo finally got the nerve to look up at the Arrancar and Grimmjow’s eyes bored holes straight through him, “I’m telling you that I don’t mind.”
“Oh, okay, great,” Ichigo managed awkwardly. This wasn’t the kind of confidence he wanted to be giving off at this point in their night. What happened to all of their chemistry from the fighting ring? Could Ichigo really not keep it together if they weren’t trying to kill each other?
Grimmjow gave Ichigo’s ogling a pass, but apparently decided not to let him completely off the hook. “So, do you just not have any impulse control or what?”
And, fair. He deserved that.
Ichigo sighed. “So you know how you said you wanted honesty from me?”
Grimmjow looked surprised at that question but nodded.
Well… he asked for it…
“There isn’t a great way to explain it. It’s a feeling, I guess, like…” Ichigo rubbed his neck searching for the words when he looked at his hand and an idea occurred to him. He continued, “well I guess, most of the time I kind of go around like this,” Ichigo held out a fist clenched tightly between them. So tightly that in a matter of seconds the veins stood up on his forearm. “But then, there's something about... like after our fight I mean; I feel like I can just,” Ichigo let his hand fall open.
The two of them looked down at Ichigo’s empty palm together.
“Huh…” Grimmjow said, utterly stunned.
A thrill of vulnerable electric energy shot up Ichigo’s spine and he couldn’t help a tense laugh. “I don’t know if that makes any sense...”
Grimmjow blinked up at Ichigo wide eyed, like he was pulled from a trance. He quickly responded, “no, it does.”
“I can reign it in if it’s too much…” Ichigo ventured, already withdrawing, pulling his hand back towards his chest.
“Don’t.” Grimmjow said decisively, suddenly grabbing his wrist, and pulling it back between them. Ichigo glanced up at Grimmjow in surprise, and Grimmjow stared at Ichigo calmly. “I’d rather know what you’re thinking.”
“Uh, okay…” Ichigo agreed, eyes dropping briefly to where Grimmjow’s hand was curled around his arm. Ichigo felt his cheeks heat despite himself.
Was he blushing again? Ugh.
The grin that split Grimmjow’s face and creased the estigma at the corners of his eyes could only be called self-satisfied, and Ichigo had to force himself not to look away with pure stubborn defiance.
There was no denying that he was attracted to Grimmjow’s confidence, and unfortunately it seemed Grimmjow was already learning how easy it was to use it against him.
It’s not like it was news to Grimmjow that Ichigo was into him at this point. He had made that clear several times over the course of the day. And Ichigo had just been given permission to continue to act like a moron, so at the least Grimmjow didn’t mind it and probably even enjoyed the attention. Still, it was clear to Ichigo that he’d just conceded a victory.
If he could manage to stop embarrassing himself for just a second, that would be fantastic.
Ichigo’s pride made him straighten up with conviction. He couldn’t be this easy, damnit.
Ichigo turned his hand in Grimmjow’s grip, and Grimmjow released his arm with no resistance. Instead of pulling away, Ichigo took the Arrancar’s hand in his own.
Heart beating wildly in his chest he met Grimmjow’s surprised gaze and gave him a friendly smile, “come with me?”
“Yeah,” Grimmjow agreed, and allowed himself to be led.
..
Although Grimmjow had given Ichigo permission to perv on him, he made a point of keeping his eyes politely averted as they quickly disrobed and dropped into the steaming bath Ichigo led them to.
Ichigo dunked his head under the water and scrubbed the day from his orange hair quickly in the hot water. When he breached the surface he shook his hair out, and gave Grimmjow a playful grin.
The Arrancar dipped under water himself and when he came back up, he pushed a hand through his hair, the water sculpting the dark blue hair effortlessly before sliding down his neck and chest unfairly.
Ichigo’s mouth went dry. He’d made a massive miscalculation.
So it turned out the wine was a fantastic idea.
There wasn’t any time for things to get awkward between them. Grimmjow did a clever trick with his claws to get the cork out of the neck of the bottle and then passed it to Ichigo once he’d settled beside him.
The wine was sweet and went down easy.
From Ichigo’s limited experience with alcohol, that was pretty much all he was looking for. When he felt a subtle warmth from the wine rise up under his skin, he said as much to Grimmjow.
The Arrancar just grinned at him like he thought Ichigo was being cute, and reached out to take the bottle back from him to try it for himself.
Seeing the same bottle he’d just drank from pressed into the Arrancar’s lips did something to Ichigo not worth mentioning.
Then nearly taking Ichigo out, Grimmjow swallowed down the alcohol and then let out a moan of pleasure.
Well… Good thing they were already seated in the pools of hot water.
Grimmjow went to hand it back, and Ichigo motioned that he should hold onto it. The Arrancar’s eyes glittered appreciatively in the low light, and he rested it on the rim of the bath.
Ichigo felt warm, inside and out. He had Grimmjow, alone, and in a good mood. Things could not have been more in his favor if the stars twinkling above the bath had aligned to spell out ‘go for it.’ Ichigo had to try to get to know the other man; he wasn’t going to get another chance like this. “There’s something I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve asked around and had no luck, but maybe you will have a theory for me?”
“Go for it,” Grimmjow said, lounging loose-limbed in the hot water.
“So, okay, you know how the Shinigami and Soul Society have this whole Edo period/Japanese samurai motif going on? Like, the buildings, old tatami mats, rice paper partitions. When you think “Shinigami” then you’re definitely imagining some person in those ancient formal robes that nobody wears anymore, right?”
“I’ve never been to Soul Society before today, but I’ll take your word for it,” Grimmjow said, his eyes closing as he listened to Ichigo speak.
“Okay, right, so, the Shinigami have this Japanese thing going right? And the Quincey? They all kind of have this Germanic thing, but not in a good way. I’m talking about how they name their abilities, and specific fashion choices that wouldn’t pass a sniff test if you asked anyone born after World War 2, if you catch my drift.”
Grimmjow quirked a grin, “I do, go on.”
“Okay so, Nel told me that there were Arrancar before Aizen, and even a group called the ‘Espada,’ and so my question is this, Las Noches, Hueco Mundo, all of these Spanish motifs… Were the first Arrancar Conquistadors in life before they became Hollow?”
Grimmjow sat up and looked at Ichigo in surprise, “you asked Nel this?”
“Yeah, and she said she didn’t know, but she’d find out. And then we got attacked by uhh," Ichigo thinks back, “Noitorra, I think? Spoon hat?”
Ichigo draws a spoon shape with his finger in the air and Grimmjow choked out a laugh.
“Yeah, so then I forgot to follow up with her. So, what do you think?”
Grimmjow had a relaxed grin on his face while he mulled it over. “Conquest is a driving factor that could take someone far. What keeps a hollow alive in Hueco Mundo, and really anywhere more than anything is willpower, so you could be right. I wouldn’t know better than Nel about this, since she’s been dead a lot longer than I have. And also she’s someone people want to talk to.”
“I want to talk to you,” Ichigo said with a smile.
“Yeah? I hadn’t fucking noticed,” Grimmjow said sarcastically.
“Follow up question, are you Spanish?” Ichigo asked.
“Am I-,” Grimmjow jolted up, disturbing the warm water, looking flabbergasted, “Am I Spanish? Kurosaki, is that a real question?”
Ichigo’s embarrassed blush went high up his cheeks, but he held strong, “ok, yes, you’ve got a clear old school Japanese gangster look. I see that, but your name is Jaegerjaquez! There are no Japanese people named that.”
I checked, Ichigo didn’t say.
“I wasn’t called Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez when I was a human, Kurosaki. That’s the name I've given myself since I died.”
“What was your-“
“Don’t ask that. I’m not going to tell you. The only name you need is the one you have.” After a moment of silence between them Grimmjow leaned back and continued, “I spent more time on four legs as an Adjudas than I did in the human world. Don’t go looking for an old pile of bones, when I’m right here.”
After a long silence Ichigo decided to ask another question. “What kind of Adjudas were you? Had to be some kind of cat right, because of your release form.”
“Panther,” Grimmjow put his arms out wide, “big, fucking panther.”
“That’s so cool.” Ichigo said with a grin, trying to picture it. “I wish my hollow was some kind of animal, instead of just some asshole with horns.”
Grimmjow hummed, “maybe you’re a cow.”
“A cow?!” Ichigo sat up in the bath in horror, water sloshing around him. “I’m not a fucking cow!”
Grimmjow gave him a sly look, and Ichigo realized aghast, “was that a joke, you’re teasing me?”
“You just asked me if I’m fucking Spanish!” Grimmjow countered mockingly.
Ichigo just laughed in response. God he felt so good, this was the best day he could remember.
When Ichigo relaxed back from his laughter he noticed that Grimmjow was watching him with a small amused smile tilting the edges of his mouth.
“Alright, I’ve decided on my prize.” Grimmjow said firmly, pointing at Ichigo with the bottle.
Ichigo raised an eyebrow, “oh yeah, what’s that?”
“Tell me something about you that no one, not Nel, not those Shinigami, not even those humans know about you.”
Ichigo’s heart sped up. That was a good idea for a prize. “Yeah okay, let me think.” Ichigo waved at the bottle of wine, and Grimmjow passed it over to him. Ichigo took a drink as he mentally skimmed through the insanity that has been his life for something worth talking about that no one knew. When he struck gold, it turned out he didn’t need to go very deep for something outrageous enough to share.
“Okay, so since no one was there nobody knows this,” Ichigo shoved the bottle back into Grimmjow’s hand with undue force, which Grimmjow just quirked a grin at. “But- I did fight Yhwach for like two seconds in Soul Society before he flew up there. And during that fight, Yhwach called me his “son” because I was able to use ‘blut,’ which is a Quincy shielding ability.” Ichigo gave Grimmjow a put out look and complained, “‘Son,’ Grimmjow.”
“Nasty,” Grimmjow cringed. “Did he proposition you to join their side too?”
Ichigo shook his head, bummed out by the situation, “not yet, but I think it could be coming. He's equally delusional and racist, so it could go either way.”
“Gotta love that in a bastard with a god complex,” Grimmjow said wryly, taking a swig from the bottle. “Would you be tempted?”
Ichigo gave Grimmjow an incredulous look, “tempted by the guy trying to end the world?”
Grimmjow rolled his eyes, “no, I meant by the opportunity to infiltrate.”
“Oh… no. That’s not really my style.” It had honestly not even occurred to him.
Grimmjow hummed in thought, taking another drink. Eventually he said, “where do your Quincey powers come from anyway? Was pink-robe right that you just spawn whatever abilities you need for the enemy you're up against?”
Ichigo sat up quickly, eyes wide, wiping his chin, “no so get this, my mom was a Quincey who absorbed a Hollow that was created in fucking Aizen’s experiments.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Grimmjow said in bald surprise.
“No really!” Ichigo said excitedly, he hadn’t had anyone to talk to about this yet.
Wait, Ichigo rolled his eyes at himself. “That’s what I should have told you, since I just found out about it myself and my dad literally kept it a secret my whole life.” Ichigo pointed at Grimmjow decisively, “there’s your prize. You’re one of three people who know why I have all this,” Ichigo gestured to his whole self, “going on.”
Grimmjow blinked at Ichigo, slowly processing. Eventually he frowned, and said, “Why the secrecy? Was your mom a part of Aizen’s experiments too?”
“Only accidentally. It’s a bit of a story.” Ichigo said sheepishly.
Grimmjow gave Ichigo a flat expression, “oh, well, I’m actually really busy right now, so don’t tell me.”
Ichigo grinned widely, and splashed the Arrancar with the hot water, which just made Grimmjow laugh at him.
“Alright, alright, so on the night my parents first met, the two of them just happened to fight the Hollow that Aizen had been experimenting on as an unlikely team, and as a result the Hollow actually jumped inside of mom to try to kill her.” Ichigo shrugged.
“Weird,” Grimmjow said offhandedly.
“Yeah?” Ichigo asked, surprised.
Grimmjow nodded, “that sort of thing doesn’t happen. Must have been something Aizen did.”
Huh… Did that mean Aizen intentionally targeted his mom? “I mean it could have been Aizen did something, or it could have been just an anomaly?”
“Hollows are driven by survival at all costs. Maybe, an Arrancar might do something spiteful like that, but not a regular Hollow.” Grimmjow shrugged, “but if Aizen is involved bets are off.” Under Grimmjow’s breath Ichigo heard a muttered ‘bastard.’
Ichigo decided to file that away for later.
“So, why the secrecy,” Ichigo continued, looping back to Grimmjow's earlier question, “dad said the reason he didn’t tell me was because he wanted to keep me and my sisters out of the Shinigami limelight. He was worried about it getting around that his kids were all conceived with a Quincey while he, a Shinigami, was using a gigai. Which is more than a little illegal according to the Soul Society.”
Grimmjow cocked an eyebrow at him and said dryly, “worried about super powered hybrids running around, I imagine.”
Ichigo gave Grimmjow a flat look, “that, or necrophilia.”
A slow amused grin curled Grimmjow’s lips at the dark humor.
“Anyway, mom should have died from the Hollow after that fight, but they cast a spell on her to bind my parent’s souls together to save her life.” Ichigo put his hand up counting the factions as he named them, “Dad’s Shinigami soul neutralized the Hollow soul, and so mom survived as a Quincey.”
“I understand teaming up to take on a common enemy, but…” Grimmjow laid his head in his free hand casually. “Quite the grand gesture for an enemy.”
“They weren’t on the same side, but… they weren’t enemies either.” Ichigo felt a small proud smile cross his lips. “Dad said, ‘it was just the right thing to do.’” After a moment he remembered himself, his eyes flicking over to Grimmjow briefly before continuing breezily, “they didn’t actually get together until a while after. And then,” Ichigo waved a hand around, “the rest is history.”
Grimmjow was watching Ichigo again with that heavy half-lidded gaze. Silence fell between them while they both considered Ichigo’s bizarre lineage and who had a hand in it. It was a wild story that Ichigo hadn’t quite come to terms with himself.
After a while Grimmjow rumbled, “That must be where you get it from, then.”
Ichigo shrugged, “yeah, I mean it’s nice to know that I shouldn’t expect any more supernatural abilities to pop up after this. It can all be traced to my parents.”
“Not that,” Grimmjow leaned back, facing the stars when he said, “I’m talking about your sense of honor.”
“Oh,” was all Ichigo could say to that, internally shaken.
Grimmjow was saying Ichigo gained his moral code from his parents. That he could see what Ichigo held himself up for, what he fought for, and judged it as honorable.
Wow.
Ichigo took a deep breath to try to steady himself, an affected smile on his face, his heart beating hard in his chest. “I-I hope you’re right,” Ichigo managed.
Grimmjow slanted his eyes to Ichigo then looked away without comment.
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the cool night air and the hot water in peace. Ichigo’s mind drifted from the vulnerable moment, and he thought he might fall asleep. When was the last time he’d felt this relaxed?
A soft breeze skimmed over the surface of the water, and Ichigo couldn’t help but close his eyes at the caress. The soft lights in the air sway above them.
“Kurosaki,” the silence was so nearly complete, that the timber of Grimmjow’s voice could almost be felt when he spoke. “I think it’s time we discuss that kiss from earlier.”
The kiss. Ichigo smiled to himself as the memory replayed behind his eyelids. That had actually happened. “What about it?”
“Before when we talked I got the impression that you were hot for me and were looking to hook up ahead of this battle tomorrow. Which sounded fine to me at the time, but after today and that kiss, well…”
At Grimmjow’s pause, Ichigo opened his eyes to give Grimmjow his full attention.
“I could bend you over in this hot spring right now, and fuck you so hard that whatever healing powers these waters have you’d be fighting Quinceies with a limp tomorrow,” Grimmjow said casually, like he hadn’t just pulled that fantasy directly out of Ichigo’s head, “but I think that’s not really what you’re after anymore.”
“What is it that you want from me?” Grimmjow asked bluntly.
Ichigo could not be more glad that the hot water, wine and low lighting did so much work to explain the dark color of his cheeks. Did Grimmjow actually want to give Ichigo a heart attack, saying things like that? Ichigo swallowed thickly, feeling the effort it took to face the Arrancar’s cool expression and think.
The first part of that question wasn’t a question, it was a red herring.
Ichigo had to pretend to have not been affected by it and move to the more pressing and concerning part of what Grimmjow had just said. Ichigo had thought they’d defined what was going on between them earlier, but apparently not. Ichigo played back what he could remember from their previous conversation and realized with no small amount of chagrin that he was going to have to learn to communicate better himself if he wanted this to work.
Ichigo took a moment to reflect on the day they had and considered his words carefully so as not to be misunderstood again, before he decided on, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”
The words settled between them, and Ichigo saw plainly with his own eyes the exact second they permeated Grimmjow’s brain.
Confusion, suspicion, and then Grimmjow’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell in open surprise. He breathed, “you’re shitting me,” like Ichigo had just told him something impossible, rather than what Ichigo thought was the obvious explanation.
Ichigo cracked a grin; damn but he was cute.
Grimmjow’s expressiveness put Ichigo’s nerves at ease. Finally he was taking him seriously, and he loved it. “We just spent the whole day together, are you telling me you didn’t have fun? I know I did.”
“We.. Kurosaki, I-.” Grimmjow was shaking his head, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?! What makes you think something like that could work for us?”
Ichigo shrugged, “I meant it when I said I like being around you. It doesn’t seem impossible to me.”
“Yeah? And how do you see it playing out?” Grimmjow challenged.
Now they were getting to the meat of it. “We’d spend time together, get to know each other better, do boyfriend things.” Ichigo said simply.
“‘Boyfriend things?!’ That’s not-” Grimmjow stood in the water suddenly, pointed at Ichigo and accused, “you have NO plan!”
Ichigo frowned slightly at that, “I don’t know everything, okay? I just thought we could figure it out as we went.”
Ichigo hauled himself up on the side of the bath so he was back on eye level with the Arrancar standing in the bath. Ichigo offered his hand to Grimmjow palm up and said, “come over here for a second, and I’ll explain.”
Grimmjow’s sharp eyes lingered on Ichigo’s hand. Slowly they inched up Ichigo’s arm to his chest, and then eventually to his face. He held his eye contact for a few seconds, the reflective disks in his eyes catching the light in an eerie glow, before he looked away. With a sigh that sounded like it cost him Grimmjow came to sit beside Ichigo again.
Ichigo dropped his hand on the edge of the smooth stone between them, carefully respecting the unspoken boundary by not touching Grimmjow where his hip leaned next to him.
“Look, it’s not that I’m being impulsive or that I didn’t think about this before I asked you. I am taking this seriously, but none of that matters anyway if you don’t want to. That’s the only part that counts here.” Ichigo leaned forward so he could see Grimmjow’s face and asked very seriously, “so what do you say? Do you want to date me? See where this can go?”
Grimmjow massaged his jaw thoughtfully, conflicted and not meeting his eyes. Decidedly not giving an answer one way or another.
Ichigo knew enough about the other man that he could tell that a part of Grimmjow wanted to say yes. Otherwise he would have immediately rejected him outright, ran, or started a fight. Grimmjow wasn’t doing any of those things, instead he was doing something harder.
It wasn’t Grimmjow meeting him half way, but it also wasn’t nothing.
Ichigo sighed and leaned back, “if you need some time to think about it, I’m okay with that. I had a while to decide that this was something I wanted to pursue, so it’s only fair.”
“A while huh?” Grimmjow said, accepting the diversion. “When did you decide you wanted me?”
Ichigo’s mind helpfully supplied an image of Grimmjow standing before him in his release form for the first time. Proud and strong and beautiful, like a painting of a mythical creature in the books Ichigo used to read as a child. Ichigo chuckled to himself, internally locking that image behind a wall in his mind, “oh I dunno, I think that’s something I’d share with someone I was dating.”
Grimmjow scoffed bitterly, “you think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
Ichigo gave a wry smile, but unfortunately the answer to that question was ‘no’.
Ichigo hated how it felt like he was complicating things. Grimmjow was looking at him like Ichigo had set himself out as bait for an incredibly obvious trap, and Ichigo could hardly blame him.
Ichigo barely understood it himself, but he knew he couldn’t go half way on this. This passion, this attraction he felt for Grimmjow, it wasn’t just rare, it was clearly driven by their connection. One couldn’t exist without the other.
Ichigo wasn’t stupid. He understood that it was unusual that the physicality of others really just didn’t move him. It was simply his reality, and since he was often busy being central to the wars of the dead he never felt the need to poke at that aspect of himself and make a problem out of nothing.
Grimmjow… challenged all of that.
Ichigo blew out a sigh, feeling inadequate. He futilely wished he’d spent more of the past year being introspective.
“Look Grimmjow, I like you, I really do, but I know myself well enough to know if we just slept together it wouldn’t be enough. If I was allowed a piece, I’d want everything, and if I couldn’t have it, well…" Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck searching for words, trying not to say the wrong thing. “This thing between us, yeah I’m obviously attracted to you, but it's you that I actually like and want to spend time with. If I have to choose between spending time with you or us hooking up, I’d rather just be friends. Does that make sense?”
Grimmjow stared at him in silence. Expression unreadable.
Ichigo was suddenly very aware that he was sitting in a hot spring, almost naked, with a man he had just given an ultimatum.
Nerves kicked up again in Ichigo’s stomach and he felt himself opening his mouth to continue talking, hoping he’d accidentally say the right thing. “I mean, you are really attractive, anyone would be lucky to-“
“Shut up, Kurosaki.”
“Ok.”
Silence stretched between them, and Ichigo crossed his arms across the chill that entered him.
So… this was it. He’d pushed too hard.
He knew that it was nothing short of a miracle that Grimmjow had let him get close to him. Grimmjow had let Ichigo kiss him, and Grimmjow was going to agree to have sex with him, and Ichigo had the gall to say ‘no, that’s not enough for me.’
What was wrong with him?
“Kurosaki, I said, shut up,” Grimmjow ground out, cutting cleanly through Ichigo’s internal panic.
“But… I wasn’t saying anything?”
“You were thinking too loud!” Grimmjow said sharply. “Just… shut up for a second.”
Ichigo held his breath, willing his heart to beat quieter under Grimmjow’s furious stare. Ichigo didn’t look away, and Grimmjow didn’t back down.
Eventually Grimmjow breathed out a sigh, the tension in his jaw loosening with great effort. “I’m not interested in belonging to anyone. A man very recently carved a number into my back to establish my worth, and I won’t let myself be put in a vulnerable position again.”
Ichigo’s eyes widened in horror. “I wouldn’t-“
“SHUT. UP.” Grimmjow barked, his voice echoing across the air of the bath. Ichigo’s teeth clicked shut.
“You say that you ‘like me’ and want to be with me, and I want to believe you. A part of me does believe you, and that fucking pisses me off.” Grimmjow swallowed thickly, looking at his hands visibly shaken. “I… fuck, yes, I had fun today. But that doesn’t matter, because if you’re asking me to be yours I can’t say yes.” He clenched his hands into fists.
Ichigo listened breathlessly as Grimmjow insisted to him that he couldn’t be vulnerable while actively being the most vulnerable he’d ever seen him.
Ichigo bit his lip, unsure if he was allowed to speak yet, “Grimm…” The other man didn’t yell at him, okay, good start. Carefully, carefully, “If you agreed to date me, you could always change your mind. I wouldn’t… own you in any way, we’d do it together… as equals.”
Grimmjow didn’t jump up and strangle him for that, so Ichigo let down his guard a little further. “It’s different, you know? Being vulnerable with people you trust can help make you stronger.”
Grimmjow slanted Ichigo a loathsome glare, and Ichigo put his hands up defensively, “but I see that you don’t trust it, so how about this: just think about it for a bit. I promise if you decide you want to give a relationship with me a chance it’ll be on agreed upon terms, fair, no tricks.”
Ichigo put his hands down, “let me know what you decide.”
An uneasy silence fell between them. Ichigo leaned back, making himself comfortable on the edge of the bath to wait out whatever process the other man was working through. Ichigo had said all he had to say. Maybe more than he should have, but he needed to make his own peace at this moment.
Grimmjow didn’t move towards him, or away, just stayed at his side like a statue. Ichigo’s eyes roved over the pale skin of the Arrancar’s back, eyes lingering on the subtle bumps of his spine, the bold six tattoo, the hollow hole, the thin waist. Ichigo followed the spine up to Grimmjow’s strong shoulders, the curve of his neck, his exposed jaw bone and the blue hair at the nape of his neck.
The sensory reminder of what that skin had felt like under the pad of his fingers came back to him like an echo, and Ichigo had to smile.
“Hey Grimmjow,” Ichigo said softly.
Grimmjow looked over his shoulder at him.
“Thanks for today.” Ichigo said simply, “it meant a lot to me. Whatever happens next, with them,” Ichigo gestured vaguely at the floating island, “or with us, I’m glad I got to spend the day with you.”
Grimmjow sighed, and leaned back so he was aligned with Ichigo again. “You’re too easy to please Kurosaki,” Grimmjow muttered softly.
Ichigo chuckled, “I’m really not.”
Grimmjow let out a scoff, “I guess not.”
Quiet fell over them, and the comforting hot water on their muscles and company was all they needed.
-
Ichigo heard the first sounds of the Shinigami arriving from Kirio’s island, and he decided it was time to leave Grimmjow to his thoughts.
“Hey Grimmjow,” Ichigo said to draw the Arrancar’s attention to him. Ichigo leaned over, executing on the idea that he had been sitting with for the last twenty minutes, and pressed a kiss to Grimmjow’s cheek above the healed scratch from their battle. Soft and warm, for just a couple of seconds, before pulling away.
“Come find me if you want to.” Ichigo told him softly, “I’ll be around.”
Grimmjow watched him breathlessly as he left.
-
<Grimmjows POV>
Grimmjow takes the borrowed clothes and what’s left of the bottle of wine and leaves the temporary warmth of the springs for the familiar comfort of solitude and darkness. He didn’t need to go far, elevating himself above the hot springs by scaling the only tall building on the island. The windows revealed a shadowy interior of what was undoubtedly someone’s living quarters. Grimmjow gave them a pass, aiming for the cradle of the arching rooftop. It had everything, privacy, open sky, and the opportunity for people watching.
The arriving Shinigami in their Edo period robes were already moving around the baths, their voices jovial and curious. One of the Shinigami wandered close to the red spring, and a voice Grimmjow could pick out as the Shinigami Renji barked out a warning. The Shinigami backed away like chastised children, and were dutifully redirected.
Grimmjow brought the bottle back to his lips as we watched, and the smell of the wine brought back the sensory memory of Ichigo’s breath by his cheek, the subtle moisture of Ichigo’s lips when he pressed them to his face, Ichigo’s fingers pushing the bottle back into Grimmjow’s hand carelessly, lips darkened by the purple stain of the wine before he excitedly started to speak.
Grimmjow looked down at the bottle in his hand in question.
Boyfriend.
The last time someone had made an offer so tempting it was when Aizen had dangled his evolution over him. The parallels weren’t lost on him. A supremely powerful man who was offering him something deeply desirable while only slowly revealing the rules. Progressively raising the stakes.
Kurosaki said date, he said it would be a negotiation, that it could make them stronger. He worked hard to convince Grimmjow of his reasoning, but that only served to make him more distrustful. However Kurosaki dressed it up, it was a dangerous proposal, and Grimmjow would be coming in at a disadvantage.
But, a voice in the back of Grimmjow’s head reminded him that Kurosaki also said he could leave. Grimmjow scowled at that, he couldn’t help but acknowledge that Kurosaki was right. Grimmjow was deeply aware that this was some sort of trap.
That’s where the war started within him. Grimmjow had conflicting information that refused to reconcile.
Grimmjow’s sharp eyes glanced down at the Shinigami again. They were healing because of Kurosaki now. He had power, and this is how he used it.
Where Aizen was evil, Kurosaki was honorable. Grimmjow didn’t suspect that, it was a pattern that he’d seen with his own eyes. Consistency.
Chemistry.
It wasn’t something he had a name for before today. There was just an instinctual pull towards a poll of opposite and matching intensity, but now he couldn’t believe he didn’t see it for what it was.
The way Kurosaki had looked at him before... The fierce predatory desire and the focus had conflated Grimmjow’s Hollow senses with their matching authentic nature. The love of the fight.
But… he was looking for what Kurosaki had mentioned this time. He allowed himself to feel the attraction and promise of more, and it had awakened within him a need that he could almost convince himself was purely physical, but for the kiss.
That kiss where Kurosaki put his hands in his hair, where he pressed smiles happily into his mouth, he had tasted not like challenge or conquest but of uncomplicated joy. That kiss changed everything.
What it made Grimmjow long for was something that was so dangerous. It was a riddle that demanded effort to even consider the impossibility of it.
To be witnessed as he was and then to be chosen.
The desire to be known slipped under his skin easier than a knife, and now it sat there twice as painful. Grimmjow wanted to chase that feeling down and capture it. Study it, understand it. Make it make sense.
His heart ached, and Kurosaki couldn’t even give him the grace to let him pretend it was from physical damage.
The blow Kurosaki had dealt him earlier that day had been perfectly earned. Another clean slice on top of the ruined skin he’d cut open once before. It was like Kurosaki’s one goal was to tear his chest open and take a look at what was inside for himself. The evidence was accumulating.
But.. the healing springs had done its job. His chest had closed and the new scar was already fading. Grimmjow touched his chest and pressed into it, it didn’t even hurt like it was supposed to. The impermanence was disquieting. Kurosaki had given him the wound, and then brought him to a place that would take it away just as quickly.
Was any of this real?
And even if it was real, did Kurosaki have any idea what he was asking for here?
If Grimmjow agreed to this…
He’d survived Aizen, but would he survive Kurosaki?
After a long moment of thought Grimmjow forced his hand to relax its vice grip on the delicate neck of the glass bottle and decided to allow himself another small sip of the wine.
-