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It was obviously the text that started it all. Ichigo would never have thought about it otherwise. At least that's what he would insist on until the end of his perplexed existence.
[grim jim]: "Ichigo, tomorrow I need you to fill my quivering hollow hole with your cum gun - please, i have to have it!"
Once again he stared bemusedly down at his phone. It obviously wasn't written by Grimmjow, who wrote in all caps like a fucking grandpa cause he'd apparently never heard of texting before the war ended and he started spending time with normal people. Okay, wrong phrasing. Spending time with people who texted, anyway. Secondly, the "please" made it abundantly clear that Grimmjow had not composed the message, even if he had somehow managed to turn off caps lock or whatever. Thirdly.. well.. that spoke for itself. What the actual fuck.
The obscene text had come in around the asscrack of dawn while Ichigo was sound asleep and hadn't been noticed until he was in the middle of his cereal and promptly choked on a spoon. After something like a quadruple take, his rational thinking kicked in and he laughed off the obvious prank and put it out of his mind.
Except that he didn't. Did- was that a thing? In Hueco Mundo? Hollow... holefucking? Surely not.
Ichigo shook off the many follow-up questions his unhelpful brain supplied and picked up his pace, heading to Urahara's logic-defying bunker where he and Grimmjow occasionally sparred whenever the arrancar was around the human world and not busy with whatever it was he did with Urahara. For Urahara. Uh. Which certainly didn't include any holefuckery. They had some kind of business relation? Right? Ichigo had never really asked and suddenly wished he had, so that he could get rid of the frankly horrifying mental image of Grimmjow and Urahara having other types of relations.
Anyhow, Urahara had given Grimmjow some kind of spirit phone for their business and from it, Ichigo had yesterday received a very normal offer for a sparring match (all in caps of course) and accepted the offer in his own regular fashion and had just been looking forward to a perfectly good fight the following day. Several hours later, he got the hole text.
He was currently on his way to Urahara's, having gotten over the hilarious joke and looking forward to what was surely another workout with no change from the routine he and Grimmjow had built up to fill the gaping hole in the shaky months following Yhwach's defeat... 'fill the hole' as in distracting them from the restlessness and unwanted thoughts in the aftermath of the war and the surreal transition to peacetime. Not any other hole... and 'unwanted thoughts' not until now including thoughts about holes, obviously, but Jesus fucking Christ wasn't Ichigo supposed to be on his way out of his teens, not into them? This was totally gonna throw him off for the day and he was gonna get his ass pounded into the fucking bedrock by Grimmjow.
... Nope.
Not even going there.
Arriving at Urahara's only to find the place empty, Ichigo found himself irrationally worried that something sinister and with a seriously weird sense of humour had kidnapped Grimmjow and the inhabitants of Urahara Shôten.
He wandered through dark and unlocked rooms with growing unease. Phone in hand, he was just about to turn around and call for backup when he tripped over what was surely one of their mangled corpses and went down like a sack of shit. It was Grimmjow, groaning from the dark depths of his soul and looking as if he definitely felt like a mangled corpse. And also looking... just.. not like himself?
Ichigo struggled to pinpoint it for a few seconds but then it hit him like a brick. Grimmjow was lying crumpled up with his ass in the air and the right side of his face facing up - and it was missing his mask. He was also not wearing his regular black catsuit but a loose, soft-looking black jumpsuit with long sleeves and a big hood. Generally he just looked very soft and vulnerable and-
Wait. Wait.
"Grimmjow." A limp noise, followed by a louder, more murderous noise when Ichigo crouched down and prodded him in the ribs.
"What the fuck, Kurosaki, shove off."
"Grimmjow look at me for a moment." A crusty eyelid lifted with much reluctance and irritation, but immediately squeezed shut again. Ichigo tried to grab Grimmjow's maskless jaw so he could get a better view of his face, but his hands were smacked wildly away, Grimmjow tipping onto his back in the process.
"Fucker!", Grimmjow moaned in pain, covering his face with clammy hands. "Don't touch my head, fucking dickhole." Then, "Get me water, okay, then I'll look at whatever..." his voice trailed of with the self-loathing grumble of someone who desperately wished for silence but was enough of a dumbass to make noise themselves. Ichigo dashed to the kitchen for a glass, interested that Grimmjow seemed to be immensely hungover, but burning with a much more important question. When he returned, Grimmjow was laying spread eagle and staring blearily up at the ceiling. Ichigo could clearly see the smudged teal blotches around the outer corners of his suffering blood-shot eyes.
"It's makeup?" Ichigo all but yelled, "that green shit around your eyes is just makeup?"
Grimmjow had a small seizure at the volume of his voice and ended up curled on his side in a saggy fetal position without replying.
"Sorry," Ichigo whispered. Then, louder, "It's been makeup this whole time??"
A single blue eye cracked open angrily. "Yeah, dipshit, you thought we were just born with colourful decorations on our faces?"
"I mean... yeah? But then-"
"It was Aizen's idea. We had whole a meeting hashing out who got do what design in what colour, so we didnt clash or match by accident."
"You're shitting me."
"It's true. Nnoitra really wanted my design to make his beady little eyes pop more, but Aizen decided it suited me best. It's the main reason the dude hated me so much."
Ichigo brain was melting out of his ears. "Really?"
"No, not really, you utter fucking moron. How the fuck are you still alive?" Grimmjow's face looked torn between disdain, amusement and just wanting to bury his head in a nice black pit. "I'm in a gigai. How did you not notice that, fuck. It felt weird without my estigma, so Ururu drew it back on last night."
That was less mind-boggling, but only a little. "Why are you in a gigai?"
Grimmjow painstakingly tipped his head as little as possible to drink from the glass Ichigo had brought and downed the whole thing like he'd spent the last decade in a desert. Okay, that was a shitty comparison when the guy was actually from Hueco Mundo, but whatever. "None of your business, is it? Now fuck off, Kurosaki, didn't you get the message?"
The message? Surely not... the hole message. Ichigo shook off that thought, feeling hesitant about leaving. But what did it matter anyway, Grimmjow didn't seem to know about the prank, nor was he in fighting shape, which was the whole point of coming, right?
"Are you hungover? What happened?" Apparently he was incapable of not spouting stupid questions that day.
"Fuuuck." Grimmjow groaned. "Get lost." When Ichigo didn't get lost and instead gave him another solid rib-prod, he sighed in exasperation. "Got drunk, whaddya think? Kisuke said it was a good time, so figured I'd try it, whatever.. Tessai and the cat lady was there too, but none of the bastards told me this would happen." He swiped a hand down his weird, maskless, teal-eyeshadow-wearing face. His normally windswept hairstyle had definitely turned into more of a bird’s nest. Maybe a bird’s nest that'd been attacked by an eagle. "I'm gonna fucking kill 'em."
"You've never been drunk before?" How old was Grimmjow, anyway? Hadn't he been human once, like the hollows who came to the human world? Maybe he'd somehow been native to Hueco Mundo, like those little lizardlike beings there had seemed to be. Maybe he didn't remember. Maybe he'd died as an angry little asshole kid and had never tried alcohol. The thought made Ichigo unexpectedly sad.
"No. Aizen made our forms immune to that kinda weak poison. Now scram, shinigami, I'll kick your dumb ass some other time." Grimmjow must have been really out of it to be providing such shameless exposition to the story in one scene. He rolled over on his other side, facing away from Ichigo but still lying in the middle of the hall on the fucking floor in a big onesie. Getting back on his feet, Ichigo made up his mind to be a good samaritan to the miserable lump. He'd had his own share of drunken nights and the wretched days that followed, and after all he now had no other plans for the day. "I'll grab you some more water and then I'm gonna go get junkfood, okay? It's great for a hangover. You like pizza?"
The lump didn't respond, but then again he'd probably never had anything that wasn't like, a soul or whatever. Ichigo ended up getting one for myself too, intending to just drop off the pizza at the shop and then head back to eat his own at home. But Grimmjow wasn't laying where he left him, and Ichigo ended up wandering around the whole house again before finding him sleeping next to the toilet, still curled up in the fetal position and drooling on the tiled floor. At least he'd managed to flush before falling asleep.
Again Ichigo was struck by how soft he looked. Of course it was the whole point of a gigai, but he just seemed so damn human, sleep making his features younger. Ichigo didn't know what to make of the whole thing.
He decided to eat his pizza propped up against the wall outside the bathroom and then, bizzarely, decided to just stay until Grimmjow woke up again. Because he knew he wouldn't be able to explain why to Grimmjow (or to himself for that matter) he chose to a complete fucking pussy about it and pretend he'd fallen asleep himself so that it looked like an accident or whatever. Sue him. Except pretending to sleep is a great way to actually fall asleep and so Ichigo woke up a short hour later to the feeling of someone opening the pizza box in his lap.
"S'nothing in here, asshole. What, you ate yourself into a coma with my food?" Grimmjow grumbled. He looked a little more alive.
"I bought the food, you ungrateful bastard." Ichigo said blearily, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "There's two boxes. Yours is underneath, look," he moved his own empty pizza box to the floor beside him, expecting Grimmjow to pick up the newly offered box, but the dude just stayed seated in a sprawl right in front of Ichigo, eating slices out of his lap.
"S'pretty gross" Grimmjow commented around a mouthful of gooey cheese, though it sounded more like a neutral statement than a complaint. Ichigo just shrugged, openly staring at his symmetrical, bare cheeks, hating himself for wondering whether Grimmjow had a normal human abdomen in this form or there was still a hole there.
"Does the gigai not have a hollow hole either?" Oh for fuckssake.
Blue eyes looked at him with mild confusion but went back down to the greasy meal. "That would defeat the purpose of fitting in with the living. Why?"
Chewing on his lip, Ichigo debated how to reply. "Just curious... did uh, you lose your phone or something?" Oh wow. Smooth.
Grimmjow did an automatic pat-down of the loose jumpsuit's pockets. "No, Kisuke definitely gave it ba-" Eyes swung back up to stare at him with definite suspicion. "Why. What happened."
Oh, well that explained everything. Very funny. Ichigo shrugged and tried a non-committal hum in the most neutral tone he could manage, not wanting to be that messenger that got shot or mauled by a grumpy hungover cat or whatever the saying was. It didn't work.
Not accustomed to having his questions go unanswered, Grimmjow tackled Ichigo and then immediately regretted his horrible decision, crumbling to the side like a wet turd and smelling not much better up close. Just what had Urahara given him to drink?
"Fucking kill me if I ever try to move again." The wet turd moaned in nauseated misery. He was sprawled partially onto Ichigo, who was blinking at the ceiling, wondering if he'd stumbled into a parallel universe of some sort. Seeing as Grimmjow was kind of crushing his left arm, he reached awkwardly over with his right to pet the smelly, wild blue hair in sympathy. He might have expected his well-meaning hand to be pushed away, but he sure as hell didn't expect the guy to just freeze up like a deer caught in headlights before somehow going even more limp than he'd been before.
"Shit, don't stop." breathed Grimmjow, sounding both confused and blissed out to hell. Huh. Bemused and curious, Ichigo slowly began massaging his scalp, which was super gross and greasy from sweat that was probably more alcohol than water. Grimmjow straight up moaned.
"So, uh, what the fuck is going on?" Ichigo muttered conspiratorially, as if what they were doing was some kind of dirty secret and he didn't want anyone walking in on them. I mean.
"You tell me, human." Grimmjow practically purred, though somehow he still managed to sound standoffish. "This how you guys feel all the time? Fighting must hurt like a bitch, damn. I almost respect you a little more, Kurosaki." Grimmjow said with all the dignity of a needy cat nuzzling it's owner's hand.
"You don't normally... feel this much? Like on your skin?" Ichigo was distracted by how much he himself enjoyed making someone else feel good. He knew a good fight was as satisfying to his sparring partners as it was to himself, but still, it was dealing out pain and this was an entirely different realm. Of course he made his family feel good by doing nice things with them, but somehow it felt really wrong to put that in the same category as touching Grimmjow's disgusting hair.
"Nah, it's one of those hierro things," Grimmjow was sighing happily as he hit a particularly good spot near the top of his neck.
"...Huh? Hero?"
Blue eyes snapped open. "Hierro, dumbass, you fought how many arrancar? A dozen? Shit. It's on our skin, it's how we block your zanpaku-- you fight me all the damn time, Kurosaki! Pay attention, fuck..." yet he still trailed off to butt his head against Ichigo's hand when he stopped petting him, like he actual fucking cat he was. Annoyed and slightly embarrassed about his lacking knowledge of arrancar terminology, Ichigo yanked on a handful of hair, but was completely thrown off when it elicited a moan instead of a scowl. Glancing down the length of Grimmjow's body, his unspoken question was answered in full.
Ichigo floundered for a few seconds. Did he want Grimmjow? The immediate answer was sure, why not, in the abstract sort of way where he'd mentally filed Grimmjow's body under 'pretty nice' when it had first peaked out from shredded clothes during one of their sessions in the bunker. Lots of the people Ichigo knew were filed under 'pretty nice'. Renji, for example. Even Ikkaku, in a bald sort of way. He'd never seen a tent in their pants. Or goofy hangover-jumpsuits. And for some reason it seemed important to know...
"Do you like getting your hair touched that much or are you just happy to see me?" Ichigo wanted to tear his own hair out.
"Eh?"
"Is... is that boner for me or for the weird new-skin thing?"
Grimmjow looked down at his boner like a wild animal had appeared between his legs but seemed to roll with it pretty fast. He wound his hand up to Ichigo's jaw, thumb flicking across his lower lip teasingly. "Why, ya want a marriage proposal, shinigami?" he jeered, tilting his head up at Ichigo (thus finally freeing up Ichigo's dead and bloodless left arm), but whatever he saw there wiped the grin off his face and made him close the distance between their lips.
Woah. Grimmjow moaned like an actual porn star. Over kissing. Life must have been pretty fucking sad with that hierro. Ichigo had never heard someone moan so unabashedly in real life, but he supposed it kind of suited someone who walked around in a fucking catsuit and wore it zipped half-way down at that. It was almost an unsexy amount of moaning, really, but only almost.
Ichigo ran the now-tingling fingers of his left arm down Grimmjow's side in what he meant to be a soothing motion, trying to calm the eruption of sound, but that only made Grimmjow's mouth open further. So he pulled back for a second, watching the guy pull in huge breaths, watching his tongue dart out to lick at his own upper lip for lack of contact and Ichigo felt warm all over at the sight. He dove back at it. To his credit, Grimmjow eagerly petted Ichigo right back, initially mirroring the hand in his hair, but soon sliding along the nape of his neck to his shoulder, coming down to squeeze at his arm like he wanted Ichigo do something very specific with it.
Ichigo in turn could only watch his own hand in something like horrified amazement, as it travelled down to palm the dick of someone who'd tried to kill him not just once, but, like, several times. From the outside of the jumpsuit, it felt like a perfectly normal-sized dick. He wondered exactly what he had been expecting. A cock thick enough to fill a hollow hole, an extremely unwanted part of his brain told him. Although Grimmjow might still have that in his arrancar form, that part of his brain continued, and his gigai just had a regular human dick to blend in. Shut up, brain, Ichigo thought as hard as he could, unintentionally stilling his hand in all his effort to not think about freaky hollow monster cocks.
Grimmjow, who was totally over Ichigo's internal cock-musings, wiggled his hips pointedly. "What's the hold up, Kurosaki, ya scared?" His eyes lit up as he undoubtly thought of something wonderfully snarky to say, but all that came out was a startled groan as Ichigo moved to straddle one of Grimmjow's thighs while his own leg pressed in hard against his length. The hand that had been tangled up in blue hair came down to tug at the black jumpsuit's oversized zipper.
"What the fuck are you even wearing," Ichigo mumbled as he licked into Grimmjow's gross hot mouth, tasting like five different kinds of rancid liquor only barely masked by the more-acceptable-but-not-exactly-sexy pizza flavour. The response made up for it, Grimmjow not stifling a single noise and raking his nails down Ichigo's clothed back so hard it made him shiver underneath. He'd never thought of himself as a particularly generous guy, but damn if Grimmjow didn't make giving a fucking pleasure. He was wrecking him just by licking at his jaw and letting him hump his leg.
"... You had Urahara put in the scar?"
It sounded like a question, but no answer was needed. The lowering zipper revealed faded, but still angry-looking scartissue, deep, ragged, old lines that had no place on a fresh gigai with skin soft as a newborn baby (because it was, even though it was covered in sweated-out booze). Grimmjow's brow furrowed in irritation, though he said nothing, instead moving to capture Ichigo's lips in a kiss. Ichigo leaned his head back, deepening the furrow in Grimmjow's forehead.
"Lots of humans have scars." Grimmjow replied curtly, sharp eyes daring Ichigo to challenge the statement.
Ichigo's mouth opened to do just that, but closed shut again. It didn't seem like the time, or maybe he just didn't want it to be. In that moment it felt like he could get that truth out of Grimmjow, or he could touch his dick, but not both and with a newly lowered regard for himself, Ichigo chose the latter. He ducked down to bite Grimmjow hard on the neck, earning a grunt and a half-smile that didn't quite look happy. He bit the smile right off as well, albeit more gently, and the moment passed with more of Grimmjow's loud-as-hell moaning, more heat pooling low in Ichigo's stomach.
The zipper was as far down as it would go and Ichigo was just reaching his hand inside when Grimmjow grabbed his wrist harshly, although his grip loosened immediately as his thumb stroked at the thin skin there almost instinctively. "I dunno what you're aimin' for here, but until I get used to this touching shit, I doubt I'll last more than about 3 seconds with skin on skin right there." Not embarrassed nor hopeful, blue eyes just studied brown ones heatedly, hand falling away again to rest above his head, leaving himself open to whatever Ichigo wanted. It was a sight. Was Ichigo taking advantage of the sensitive state of his skin? Or was he being taken advantage of, just disembodied hands and lips used to explore a new body?
Ichigo quickly stood up to shove off his pants and underwear and then crouched back down to do the same to Grimmjow, awkwardly realising that the guy was of course lying on his fucking jumpsuit and he had to just pull his legs out like he was changing a fucking baby. While Ichigo himself was crouched with his dick out in just a t-shirt. Jesus Christ. Of course Grimmjow wasn't wearing underwear. He just laid there, watching Ichigo with a calm, serious gaze and a raging hard-on.
Finally they both had their junk out (Where was Urahara and everyone? Surely Grimmjow would mention it if they were at risk of being walked in on) and Ichigo crawled over to straddle Grimmjow's stomach and press their lips together, immediately granting him a quiet humming moan. Maybe they were just taking advantage of eachother. All Ichigo knew was that the responses Grimmjow was giving was making him feel some kinda way and he could give him this. He wasn't saving it for anyone. Feeling a little small, and greatly fascinated at his own daring, he took Grimmjow's hand and brought it up to his mouth. Short blue eyebrows shot up, but Ichigo forced himself to keep eyecontact. At least until the hand moved down behind him and started exploring, at which point he dropped down to bury his head in Grimmjow's neck under the guise of kissing and biting at the flesh there. The man hummed in distracted appreciation, but definitely knew exactly what Ichigo was trying to do and remained quite focused on his work. He was... Ichigo honestly hadn't expected this part to feel that good. He'd just figured it was necessary for what was to come later, but shit.
He pushed back onto enthusiastic fingers, couldn't help himself, and groaned brokenly into Grimmjow's neck, still glad to be able to hide his flushed face from the view of someone he'd never intended to show this part of himself until... what? Until few hours ago? Until his fingers were already inside him?
"Shit, you're into this" Grimmjow hissed into his ear with wonder in his voice. Ichigo's face got somehow even redder. "Not that it's your fault you been needin' it so bad... 'specially when everythin' feels so fucking much.." he mumbled, hitting a particular spot that made Ichigo see stars. Somehow the words - the endorsement of his display of naked need, the way Grimmjow sounded so sympathetic to it, like he admired him for it - just really fucking did it for Ichigo. He spent a few more seconds grinding himself down on Grimmjow's fingers, pulling back to look into burning blue eyes, before he reached behind himself and gently grabbed at the wrist there, pulling the slender hand away.
Ideally he would have maintained sexy eyecontact all throughout the next stage, but Ichigo was not that smooth and had to actually look at what he was doing. He scooted clumsily back onto pale thighs and finally just took a good long look at Grimmjow's cock. It looked incredibly ordinairy to him after all his dumb hollow-hole-filling-monster-cock imaginings. Absently he was still entertaining the possibility that Grimmjow would have a different one in his arrancar form, but he felt guilty for thinking about it so much. It was really a perfectly nice cock and deserved better.
So he licked a thick wet stripe across the palm of his hand and went right to town on it. Grimmjow pretty much had seizure and almost threw Ichigo off with how hard his hips bucked, biting off a strangled yell to bat Ichigo's hands away from his junk. "
"Fuuuck," he ground out, panting, laughing breathlessly at himself and having the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. It was a really good look on him. "Yer gonna end it before we get to the best part" he huffed, half-smiling ruefully up at Ichigo. Ichigo smiled back and then licked his hand again, going about it gingerly the second time. It still earned him some pretty awesome noises. He shuffled forward again, using one hand to guide Grimmjow and the other to spread himself in what felt like a super awkward move, but Grimmjow said nothing and just dug his nails into Ichigo's hips in anticipation.
It was. Okay, it took some adjusting, but after that it was. Hard to describe, but definitely mainly amazing. Ichigo's eyes fluttered open (when had they closed?) to take in Grimmjow, who had his eyes squeezed shut, huffing out rough breaths and just generally concentrating on keeping the fuck still lest he explode into a supernova or something. Well that was no fun. Ichigo leaned forward, sliding almost off his length, to press a hesitant kiss against Grimmjow's lips until the man hummed into his mouth and opened his eyes again. Then he slowly slid back down.
The hum turned into Ichigo's name and fuck if that wasn't the best goddamn way anyone had ever said his name. So Ichigo did it again, and again, picking up speed and momentum, vaguely aware that Grimmjow was sliding back and forth across a hard floor and hoping it wasn't killing his back completely in that gigai. But seriously thank fuck for the gigai. Ichigo had closed his own eyes by then, bracing his hands on Grimmjow's stomach, leaning his head back, then leaning his whole torso back and just honestly riding it like there was no tomorrow. He knew porn was acting, hadn't believed it really got this good on the receiving end, but just when he thought he'd found the best spot, he kept finding a better one and grinding himself harder and harder down on to it. In the midst of voicing his own pleasure, he dimly heard the sound of Grimmjow's head banging against the floor, but he was too far gone to really care until-
"Get off." Well that's what he was trying to do, but the tone made Ichigo slow down and-
"Stop moving." And Ichigo did, immediately, his eyes popping open to. Oh god. Grimmjow was positively green. Ichigo slumped down from his pornstar-arch to again brace his hands on Grimmjow's stomach, leaning forward to stare concerned at his-
"Don't touch my stomach." The dude looked ready to puke, oh dear god. Ichigo shoved himself off him, carefully not touching his stomach. "I..." But what the fuck was he gonna say? 'I'm sorry I just rode you so hard you almost vomited on me'? This was the worst thing that ever happened to him. He glanced down to Grimmjow's cock, which was miraculously still hard. His own twitched in response, not really getting what the big deal was. But his head was busy freaking out about the fact that Grimmjow was looking more nauseous than his dad on that fucking whale watching misadventure last summer and he hadn't even fucking noticed cause he was too busy-
"Do you want me to get you something?" he asked just to stop his own head running sway.
"Death." Grimmjow said queasily, laying still for a beat and then taking off back to the bathroom as fast as he could wobble, jumpsuit still around his arms while the legs dragged across the floor, groaning as he slammed the door shut in Ichigo's horrified face. Worst day. Worst day ever. He wasn't about to stand around listening to the pizza come back up with his dick out and everything, so he threw on his shit as quick as he could and headed for the metaphorical hills. For just a second, he did hesitate in the doorway, but then he heard the shower turning on and hey, if Grimmjow was okay to shower on his own than he was okay to not look Ichigo in the eye for the next... ever. He legged it home, yeeted Kon out into the hallway and hid under his blanket for a dignified amount of time.
Eventually he had to get up to go to the bathroom, which turned out to be a nightmare all on it's own, and when he left that experience behind, Kon was waiting on his bed, arms crossed with all the authority his stuffed frame could muster. The expectant silence was heavy in the room, late afternoon sunlight bathing everything in dramatic shadows.
"I did a thing with Grimmjow" Ichigo finally confessed in a strangled voice, staring at his feet. "A... sexual thing." Slowly he raised his eyes to the stuffed lion to find his irrationally expressive face caught up in gleeful horror.
"Did you fuck his hollow hole???" What-
"Is that a thing?? I mean- No! I didn't, I- We just-" he scrubbed his hands over his face, "Look. I- I need to process things myself first. If you leave it until tomorrow, I can tell you about it." Ichigo knew Kon would annoy it out of him one way or another anyway. The lion looked at him suspisciously, considering.
"Fine, but only cause you seem really fucking traumatized. I want all the gory details first thing in the morning, Ichigo." he said, hopping off the mattress. Ichigo shut the door after him and laid back down on his bed. He was actually more bummed than he was willing to admit. The relationship he'd had with Grimmjow hadn't been particularly friendly, but it had been something he enjoyed nevertheless and he didn't see how the guy could ever throw him a serious punch again after seeing Ichigo grinding all over his nauseous hungover dick like- fuck it, he wasn't finishing the sentence. Stewing in his own cringe until after the sun had gone down, he eventually thumbed out a message on his phone, deleting and re-typing several types until it merely said:
"sorry I made you puke earlier. how's your head?"
because it seemed a bit much to ask for another spar - or anything else - in the same go. Ichigo hit send and closed his eyes, trying to decide whether to go down and raid the kitchen in self-pity or to just quit the day and try to sleep. The phone buzzed to life almost instantly.
[grim jim]: "WHOS THIS"
"ichigo. how many people made you puke today?"
[grim jim]: "FUCKIN KISUKE CHANGED THE NAMES OF EVERYONE IN MY PHONE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT"
Ichigo almost asked what his name showed up as, before getting a better idea and replying,
"lol. hey grimmjow, scroll up in our convo a little"
The reply didn't come quite as fast.
[grim jim]: "IM GONNA KILL HIM"
Ichigo cackled to himself, wondering if maybe that one time the all-caps was really intentional. As he headed downstairs to the kitchen, his phone buzzed again.
[grim jim]: "LETS DO IT AGAIN SOME TIME"
[grim jim]: "WITHOUT THE YOU KNOW"
The lack of punctuation was hurting his head, even as the grin threatened to split his face in two.
"deal"