Customer Service | By : Regulus00 Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 3896 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach nor do I make any money from this fic. |
I hate my job. I hate my job. I hate my job.
Ichigo repeated his new mantra for the thousandth time that day. Dear God, would this day never end? Ichigo leaned against his cash register, irritably twirling a bright orange lock around his index finger and watched a highly distressed looking customer make her way through the sliding doors, receipt clutched tightly in her small hand. Oh joy. Ichigo heaved himself away from his register and put on his best customer service face. Hopefully, this chick would buy it. “Is there something I can help you with?” Ichigo towered over the small woman, smiling as warmly as was possible, given he felt like choking the next customer to ask him for a refund on toilet paper. The woman tossed her dark hair and huffed loudly. “I’ve been overcharged. Again. This is the third time this week. Fix it. Now.” Oh for the love of all things holy. Are you fucking kidding me? “I apologize for the inconvenience. Why don’t you tell me exactly what the problem is and we’ll work on making it right.” And then, just maybe, I’ll squeeze your face until your eyes pop out. The small woman huffed again and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her nonexistent bosom. “The paper towels were supposed to be on sale, buy one, get one free. I was charged full price for both. Give me back my money.” She shoved her receipt at Ichigo. “See for yourself.” Ichigo smiled again and studied the woman’s receipt, inwardly cussing at high rate speeds. “It appears that you picked up the wrong size. The smaller, eight roll packages are the ones that are buy one, get one. Why don’t you bring the others back in and I’ll switch them out for you and refund the difference.” Ichigo flashed the woman what he hoped was a winning smile. He could never tell, really. Women weren’t exactly his strong point. “Oh, yes. Of course. All my fault, wasn’t it. Typical. You think you can just throw all the blame on me and get off scot-free. Well, I certainly don’t think so, I….” Whatever the fearsome woman was about to say next was lost on Ichigo. Behind her, Ichigo could see a blue-haired god entering the store. Holy. Fucking. Damn. The blunette made his way into the store and walked past Ichigo and the irate customer he was supposed to be attending to. He was tall, 6 feet or better, by Ichigo’s guess. And, by the gods, was he attractive. His hair was sky blue and his eyes were only slightly darker. A white t-shirt clung desperately to his figure, revealing toned, muscular arms and making pleasant suggestions about the upper body underneath. The blunette’s jeans hung loosely about his hips, held up by a black belt with a large six on the buckle. Black Converse adorned his feet. Sweet mother of God. Ichigo was tempted to check himself for a nosebleed. The blunette grinned at Ichigo as he walked by, revealing bright teeth and sharper than average canines. Ichigo smiled back, watching the blue-haired man as he passed. It was only after he took in the man’s back and, consequently, his ass that Ichigo realized that he had been ignoring a customer whilst gawking openly at a stranger. Oops. “Are you even listening to me? What are you looking at? It this how you treat all of your customers? Well, answer me! “ Ichigo was surprised that the small woman could talk so fast. He stared at her, unsure of how to recover from his obvious fuck up. “Uhm, I apologize for the misunderstanding, if you’ll just grab the paper towels you purchased earlier I’ll, uhm, refund your money and then you can decide if you want the others. I am truly sorry for the misunderstanding.” “Misunderstanding?” The woman’s eyes became small slits and, somehow, she seemed to grow taller. “Misunderstanding? No, this is not a ‘misunderstanding.’” Her voice rose substantially, she was practically screaming. “This is you, being unhelpful and overcharging me and then completely ignoring my requests for help in order to stare at some man. This is completely ridiculous. Keep the damn money; you certainly won’t be getting anymore from me. And I’ll be reporting you, as well. So be prepared. Maybe you can move in with your little boyfriend over there when they fire you.” With that, she turned; flipping her hair quite violently and angrily strutting from the store. Well, damn. Ichigo had never, ever met a customer with whom he couldn’t negotiate. And now, he had made one so angry that she had threatened his job. Well, shit. Luckily, Ichigo didn’t have time to dwell on his obvious failure. Behind him, he heard someone clear their throat. Ichigo turned, only to find himself face to face with the sinfully delicious cause of his fuck-up. The taller man looked Ichigo over for a minute. “So you gonna stare at me all day or ya gonna check me out?” Ichigo laughed. Fucking hell. The man practically purred. “Aren’t they the same thing?” The blunette stared at Ichigo, his brow scrunched in confusion. And then he chuckled. Oh fuck. Ichigo was quite positive that he had never been this aroused, simply by hearing someone speak. Especially when the man had only said a small handful of words. Ichigo tried to gather his wits. Ok, cash register. Sell him things. Slip him your number. Rape him in the stockroom. Ichigo blushed at that thoughts racing through his head. Where were all these images coming from? Fucking hell…. Ichigo stepped quickly around the man and stood behind his register, turning to the magazine and bottled water sitting precariously on its edge.“Anything else I can getcha?” Like my number or a quick roll in the back. I give a mean blowjob…
Ichigo inwardly smacked himself, his blush brightening substantially. The blunette sauntered over to the register and leaned across it, effectively placing himself less than a foot away from Ichigo. “How bought you tell me what time you get outta this shithole?” Fucking yes! Now, I’ll leave now! Ichigo struggled to regain his cool, which was currently dancing around in his head screaming “SEX!” at the top of its lungs. “Now why would I tell you something like that? I don’t even know you.” The taller man’s grin widened, “Because you want me.” Ichigo’s blush took on epic proportions. “What gave you that idea?” “Well, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes ever since I walked in. Didn’t stop until that short bitch started screamin’ at ‘cha. Don’t be shy.” The blunette grinned widely as Ichigo’s eyes widened and dropped to the floor. “ “That’ll be $6.80. Cash or credit?” The man’s grin faltered, but only for a second. He sighed audibly and playfully rolled his eyes. “Name’s Grimmjow. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. There, now you know me, so give me your number.” Ichigo smirked. How could he deny this guy, no this fucking sex-god, anything? Especially when Ichigo was about two steps away from mangling the man in front of the entire store. “Ichigo Kurosaki. Outta here at 2.” Ichigo tugged a piece of paper from the receipt printer and carefully wrote his name and number on it. Grimmjow smirked and pulled out his wallet. “Debit.”Ichigo paced his room at hyper-speed, stopping every now and then to check his phone, just to make sure the volume was up. He was sorely disappointed. He had expected Grimmjow to call him at precisely 2 o’clock and demand that they have ravenous sex in less than desirable places. He had rushed home, showered quickly and dug through his closet like a schoolgirl going on her first date. He had settled on a light blue graphic tee and a pair of rather tight stonewashed jeans. His usual gray Chucks sat by the door, waiting.
I’m acting like such a girl! Stupid. Who cares if he doesn’t call? It’s not like I’m hard up or anything. That was, of course, a total lie. Not that Ichigo didn’t have options. He just hadn’t taken an interest in any of them. And his sex life had paid the price. It hadn’t been that long. Ichigo and Renji had just fooled around like a month or so ago. But that was before Renji started looking for a “relationship” and “commitment” and all those other things that Ichigo didn’t have the fucking time for. Not with Renji, anyways. Not that Ichigo didn’t like Renji; he just didn’t like him as more than a friend. A friend with benefits. Ichigo shrugged off his thoughts and decided that he might as well do something productive. He flopped down on his bed and reached across it to dig into a never-ending pile of clothes. At the bottom, his laptop was waiting faithfully, praying for the day when it would be released from its sock-infested cavern and used for something other than porn. Ichigo wasn’t in the mood for anything other than a romp with a blue-haired stranger, so he decided to actually do his homework, for once. Ichigo was attending a local college and one day, he wanted to make a name for himself. Today, however, he just wanted to plow through his sleep-inducing history homework and forget a certain blue-haired sex-god. After three chapters of endless blah, Ichigo reached for his phone. Just to check the time, of course. 7:25. Shit. No sex for you, Kurosaki. Ichigo sighed heavily and dropped his phone on the bed beside him. Flopping down on his stomach, Ichigo mentally prepared himself for the next torturous chapter and plunged ahead. Just as he thought he was going to pass out from sheer boredom, his cell phone screeched loudly, blasting rock music throughout the room. Ichigo glanced at his phone. ‘Unknown Caller,’ and a number that Ichigo didn’t recall seeing before stared back at him. Holy. Fucking. Hell. Ichigo lunged at his phone and quickly brought it to his ear, trying desperately to sound calm and collected. “’Hello?” “Miss me yet, Strawberry?” Ichigo grinned. “Who is this? And don’t call me that.” “Aww, don’t tell me you already forget me, Strawberry,” the voice husked. Ichigo suppressed a shudder. Definitely Grimmjow. “Uh, Greg, right?” The voice on the other end of the line laughed. “Seems like you have memory issues, Strawberry. How ‘bout you tell me where I can pick you up at and I’ll make sure you never forget my name again.” Oh. Fucking. Shit. Grimmjow’s words went straight to Ichigo’s groin. “Right. Uhm, I’ll text it to you then, uhm…..” “Grimmjow.” “Right. Grimmjow. I’ll text you the address.” Ichigo hung up, a wide grin splitting his face. He quickly sent his address to Grimmjow and sat back to await a reply.New Message
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