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Break Up 2 Make Up	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 1451 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
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CHAPTER 1: I HATE YOU
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
'Cause when the tears start flowin'
And the wind starts blowin'
That's how you know (That's how you know it's comin' for you)
When the rain start fallin'
And you feel the pain comin'
That's how you know (That's how you know it's comin' for you)
Like a hurricane
Like a hurricane
The way you break everything that comes in your way
Just like a hurricane
Just like a hurricane
The way you broke my heart and now I'm left with the pain
After the hurricane
Now my life is shattered and I'm left to pick up the pieces
And find a new beginning and put it back together again
After the hurricane, the hurricane
-Jazmine Sullivan-
XOXOXO
Ichigo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a jumbled whirl of mixed emotions. It was three o'clock in the fucking morning and his boyfriend still hadn't brought his ass home. This had been occurring far too often in their relationship and he was sick of it.
When he'd first started seeing the tall, sculpted, blue-haired man, everything had been fine. Hell, even a year into things and it wasn't nearly as bad as it was now. Of course, there had been arguing and disagreeing, but that was normal. Shit, it even led to some very hot make-up sex, but these past few months...
Ichigo didn't know what to do. It seemed like his lover had transformed into an entirely different person and no matter what he said or did, nothing could reach the man. Ever since the man had been laid off from his job, things had taken a turn for the worse. It wasn't like Ichigo was pestering the man to get a job either because he knew with his boyfriend's background, it was already tough enough to find a job to begin with. So, he never hounded him about it.
Ichigo assumed it was the blue-haired man's pride eating at him that was making him act the way he'd been acting recently. The guy stayed out all hours of the night, didn't help with household chores and picked fights for simple shit. Ichigo loved him, but he was starting to feel like the more time passed, the more his love was turning into hate. Half the time his boyfriend was either drunk or high and it pissed him off. The blunet's friends didn't help things either, always supplying him with the alcohol and encouraging his destructive behavior.
He missed the man he had fallen in love with.
The man that had always been brash, but affectionate and caring in his own way, making everything he did mean that much more. The man that had googled how to bake a cake, just to make one for Ichigo's birthday last year. The man that had a crude sense of humor and no filtering system, but managed to watch his words and tone around him.
Ichigo sighed and rubbed his eyes, only just realizing the tears falling from his eyes. He turned his head, absently noticing the soaked material pressing against his cheek as he glanced at the clock on the night stand. A loud trilling made him jump and fumble almost desperately for his cell phone that was also on the night stand, hoping against hope that it was his boyfriend calling to at least let him know that he was alright.
He grabbed the device and grimaced as his shoulders sagged in disappointment upon taking in the name on the readout. Pressing a button to connect the call, he lifted the small rectangle to his right ear and covered his eyes with his left arm as he fell back against his wet pillow, "Yeah," he mumbled.
"...er...Ichigo?" the caller asked hesitantly.
Ichigo sighed and fought the urge to hang up, "You do know it's almost four in the fucking morning, right?" he growled.
"Well...it's uh, it's kinda important."
"Then spit it out!" he snapped irritably. He didn't mean to take his frustrations out on the man, but he was worried and pissed off.
"I just saw Grimmjow..." There was a pause and Ichigo registered the faint sound of thumping bass as if the caller was standing outside of a club.
His heart stilled and his tongue was suddenly sticking to the roof of his mouth. He was almost afraid to ask the next question, but knew he wouldn't be able to rest unless he did. "Where?" His voice had come out thick as peanut butter.
Silence, but Ichigo could still hear the music in the background, so he knew the connection hadn't been severed.
"Keigo..." he stated, voice much calmer than he felt at the moment.
A deep sigh before, "At Gotei 13. He was with those guys again, but..." Keigo's voice trailed off and Ichigo could imagine the brown-haired man shifting nervously.
"Keigo," he growled deeply as he sat up and perched on the side of the bed. The hardwood floor was cold under his feet, meaning he'd left the AC on too long.
"He had some guy hanging all on him, kissing him and stuff," Keigo blurted and Ichigo felt the blood drain from his face as his stomach plummeted to his feet.
"Hn," was all he said because he was simultaneously trying to fight the urge to tear up and vomit.
"I-Ichigo, I'm sorry, man," Keigo said softly.
"Yeah, uh, look, I gotta go," he said and hung up before Keigo could respond.
He sat on the side of the bed staring at nothing in particular as his worst fears had been confirmed. Ichigo wasn't really for the "word of mouth" thing, but one thing about his friend was the fact that Keigo had never been a liar. Besides, why would he go through the trouble of calling him at damn near four in the morning just to spin a tale?
So...Grimmjow had been...
Ichigo clutched his stomach as it heaved drastically. Why wouldn't Grimmjow just break up with him instead of...instead of fucking someone else? It was humiliating and more painful than anything he'd ever experienced in his life. Grimmjow obviously didn't love him anymore. He didn't care. Maybe he never had. Maybe their whole relationship had been a farce. A lie. A joke.
Anger burned in his chest and anguish formed a lump in his throat as he surged from the bed and stormed to the closet. He fumbled around in the back before finally finding what he was searching for: his large, black duffel bag. He wouldn't need much, but he knew for certain he wasn't staying there anymore. He would go back home and hope like hell that his old man didn't ask him any questions.
Ichigo angrily stuffed some clothes into the bag but mostly gathered important papers and personal items. Once he was satisfied that he had everything he intended to bring with him, he dressed in a pair of Grimmjow's sweats and one of his t-shirts. Both were too big, but he didn't care. He didn't feel like rooting through the bag he'd just packed and he was sure Grimmjow wouldn't miss them.
He slung the bag over his shoulder, letting the strap rest across his chest and headed for the front door. He was walking through the dark living room, when the lock turned and the door swung open, a drunken Grimmjow stumbling through. Ichigo narrowed his eyes as his lips formed a thin line. His hands came up to grip the strap of his bag as he glared at his...ex.
Grimmjow slammed the door shut and finally registered Ichigo standing there before him, "The fuck're ya doin' in the dark?" he slurred, squinting his ocean-blue eyes at him.
Ichigo averted his gaze and ignored the question, hoping Grimmjow would just let him be like he always did on nights like this. Unfortunately, Grimmjow had other plans. He ran a large, tanned hand through his disheveled mop of bright blue hair, the stubborn strands in front springing back to cover his brow once more. Grimmjow cocked his head to the side and blinked in an exaggerated manner, "Didja hear me?"
The longer he stood in the man's presence, the angrier he got. He could feel his emotions threatening to bubble up right through his mouth any minute now. He wanted to scream and curse, kick and punch, but what would that solve? Nothing, that's what. So, he continued to ignore the man.
"Huhn, ya gonna gimme the silent...silent treatment now?" Grimmjow taunted, his top lip curling as he swayed in place.
Ichigo sighed and moved towards the door. Grimmjow was pathetic. He wondered what he'd ever seen in the man to begin with. Ichigo wrapped a hand around the knob, but a hand on his chest stopped him in his tracks. He slowly raised his head to look his...ex...in the face, wondering if the man was about to cross the line, when his heart stopped at the expression he observed. For a brief moment, Grimmjow resembled the man Ichigo had given his heart to.
Intense, sapphire orbs gazed down at him, blue brows drawn together.
Then it was gone.
"Che, I need a shower," the man mumbled and began stumbling away.
Ichigo couldn't tamp down his emotions any longer, "Who were you with, Grimmjow?" he asked, trying to mask the pain and anger that was consuming him at a frightening pace.
Grimmjow paused and glanced over his broad shoulder with narrowed blue eyes, "When did that become yer bizniss?" he growled.
Ichigo was stunned. He hadn't been expecting that response and frankly, it knocked the breath clean from his lungs as he stared back at the man he still unwillingly loved. After what felt like an eternity, he found his voice, "What the fuck does that mean?" he snapped, beside himself.
Grimmjow whirled on his heel to face him, losing his balance slightly before regaining it and glaring back at him, "It means jus' what the fuck I said. Why the hell ya care anyway? You ain't fuckin' me!"
Ichigo pursed his lips as tears filled his eyes. Grimmjow was right. After the man had been staying out all hours of the night, he'd been suspicious and refused to have sex with him, in case Grimmjow was sleeping with someone else. Had he pushed his boyfriend away?
No.
He'd lost Grimmjow way before they'd stopped having sex; the man was just using it as an excuse.
"Fuck you," he whispered and turned on his heel, throwing the door open. Before he stormed out, he tugged the apartment key from his keyring and tossed it on the floor, "I won't need that anymore."
He didn't notice the look of helpless despair on Grimmjow's face as he slammed the door shut, closing the book on their relationship.
XOXOXO
I'mma let you fly
And pray you come back to me
Cuz I do believe
If I let you fly
And you fly back
Then it was meant to be
So fly (fly, fly)
-J. Holiday-
XOXOXO
Grimmjow was having a hard time swallowing and unclenching his teeth. He was rooted to the spot, staring at the door that Ichigo had just disappeared behind, hands curled into fists.
Fuck.
This was what he wanted. This was for the best.
So...why the fuck did it hurt so badly?
Contrary to what he was sure Ichigo believed, he hadn't been cheating or even drinking and getting high the way he'd portrayed. He'd just wanted Ichigo to think that, making it easier for the red head to break things off with him. He hadn't had the heart to do it himself.
Ichigo didn't deserve someone like him, someone who couldn't even keep a fucking job as a factory worker because of his criminal record. He'd been charged with a felony at the age of eighteen when his mother put him out. He'd had nowhere to go, no way to take care of himself, so he'd resorted to robbing people. Finally, he'd been caught and sent to jail, but since it had only been his first offense, he was let go after a few months. The record had stuck to him like a barnacle though, making it virtually impossible to get a decent job.
Then, he'd had a rare stroke of luck when his friend, Szayel, had told him about a toothpaste factory that had been hiring. He'd gone to fill out an application and been hired on the spot. After that, things seemed to move in hyper speed. He had gotten a bank account and saved up for an apartment, rather than continue sleeping in Szayel's basement and then his co-worker, Nnoitra, had bullied him into going to a club with him one night, where he'd met Ichigo.
From the instant he'd lain eyes on the shorter, orange-haired man, he'd been inwardly smitten. He would never admit to that aloud, but it was undeniably true. Ichigo, with his gooey brown eyes and evil scowl, had taken his heart hostage and Grimmjow had made it his personal business to capture the other man's in return.
It hadn't been as hard as he'd thought, but once he'd had Ichigo, they'd been inseparable. In love. All that romantic, sappy shit. He'd taken care of his strawberry, ignoring the man's vehement protests of not needing to be taken care of. He'd liked looking after Ichigo and doing little things that made him smile and laugh.
Ichigo had been the first person to love him for him, regardless of his past. In spite of his past.
Then, things had gone down the toilet. He'd lost his job and even though Ichigo never said anything about it - didn't seem to care really - it bothered Grimmjow. He couldn't stand not being able to take care of the man he loved anymore and not being able to buy things for himself. He felt pathetic.
He WAS pathetic.
Ichigo deserved better.
Much better.
So, he'd begun pushing Ichigo away. He didn't have the heart to break up with the man, but he knew he didn't want to drag the red head along in his misery. He'd started staying out all the time, pretending to be drunk and high when in reality he would probably have no more than one or two drinks the whole night. He didn't smoke anything other than cigarettes, so he couldn't get high, unless he snorted or injected it and he really wasn't about to take that route.
He'd thought his plans had been working, but still Ichigo stayed, proving him wrong. Then, the red head had stopped wanting sex and even though it had nearly killed him, he'd distanced himself even more from Ichigo. Yet, still the man stayed. Grimmjow had been at the end of his ropes, wondering if he'd ever be able to get his lover to break up with him, when he'd spotted Ichigo's little brown-haired friend at Gotei 13 that night. An idea had slammed itself into him with the weight of a mack truck, leading him to flirt with a random dude at the club and the rest had been easy. He hadn't kissed the guy back or anything, but had allowed the short, dark-haired man to kiss him and touch him.
He'd been on the verge of gagging the entire time.
Once he'd been sure Ichigo's friend had spotted him, he'd left, explaining to Nnoitra and Szayel that he was taking the guy he'd just met home. In reality, he'd walked the man (Luppi or something?) to his car and told him to have good night. He wasn't really interested. It had earned him a crude remark, but he'd figured he'd deserved that.
The rest had been history.
Grimmjow felt anguish clawing at his gut and chest, fighting its way to his throat until it escaped in the form of a loud howl. He drove his fist through the drywall in the living room, the material crumbling around his fist like coffee cake. It fell to the floor, littering the light blue carpet that Ichigo had picked out when he'd first moved in with him.
His chest heaved and pain stabbed his heart as he retrieved his scraped and already bruising fist from the destroyed wall. He slid to the floor and drew his legs up to his chest, thrusting his hands into his hair and tugging desperately, trying to distract himself from the gnawing ache filling his entire conscious and seemingly penetrating his very soul.
"Fuck," he growled, angry with himself for not being stronger.
This was what he wanted. Ichigo deserved someone better than him. He knew that, but it didn't mean the red head's leaving hadn't torn out a piece of his very core. He loved Ichigo. More than anything in his worthless fucking life. The strawberry had been the light at the end of his dark tunnel and now he had to let him go because life was kicking him in the ass and thumbing it's nose at him again.
Grimmjow didn't know how to explain the reason behind his self-induced torture other than to say what he'd already been emphasizing. Ichigo didn't deserve to be stuck with a bum like him for the rest of his life. He was too...too good for that. And Grimmjow loved him enough to let him go.
He lifted his head and stared across the room at the opposite wall, anger at the unfairness of his life swallowing him whole. He surged to his feet and kicked over the medium-sized, wooden coffee table, unsatisfied with the minor damage it caused, so he left the living room and ended up kicking a hole into their – his – bedroom door, making the wooden structure hang limply from its hinges.
He poured himself onto their – his – bed and stared up at the ceiling. He wished the last thing he'd seen of Ichigo hadn't been the look of hurt and betrayal on his beautiful face. He wished he could have kissed him and made everything all better. He could have, but then he would've been continuing to drag Ichigo along through the mud. Grimmjow turned onto his side and closed his eyes, trying to will away the sting behind his eyes and the ache in his chest.
He just hoped that Ichigo could forgive him one day.
Maybe not tomorrow or even the next day, but...one day.
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