Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Romance and Rivalries	By : Kinnikuman Category: Bleach > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither author owns or holds any rights to "Bleach". No profit is made from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter Ten

By Rachael

At times he wondered if it was the Ishida legacy for a child of the family to resent their parents. His father had disliked his father, whom Uryu had adored, and now as a young man, he too disliked his father.

It had been nearly two years since his grandfather passed away, and sometimes Uryu had to remind himself that his mentor, the man he called ‘sensei’ with such devotion, wasn’t still sitting in his small apartment on three blocks away from school. Before his grandfather died his relationship with his father had been distant and a little forced, but after the funeral things between them had just collapsed.

For someone who held himself up as being a mature young man, it seemed almost alien to remember himself getting hysterical and crying. He’d been thirteen years old, hardly a child, but his father had to drag him from his grandfather’s apartment. He hadn’t wanted to leave. His grandfather’s had always been a place of safety for him, somewhere he could go when he felt sad or alone, he’d loved it there. It was more of a home for him than the one with Ryuken. He knew his grandfather was dead… but there was a part of him that just couldn’t let him go. If he went to the funeral to say goodbye it would be over, if he left the apartment, it was over… and his grandfather would go, and soon it would be like he’d never existed. He couldn’t let go of him, he just couldn’t.

“… waiting around for him, half like he expects my father to return.”

Uryu rubbed his forehead as the memory began to reconstruct itself around him…

His bedroom changing to the now empty sitting room, it was his grandfather’s flat. He was sat on the window ledge, staring out at the view of the garden. The material of his middle school pants rubbed against his chest as he pulled his knees tightly to his chest. He could hear his father talking angrily on the phone in the hallway near the front door… His grandfather’s furniture and belongings set into a series of boxes, half of which had been removed, all that remained were the pure white walls.

Father… Ryuken wanted him to leave. They wanted to give the room to a new resident tomorrow. The cleaners were due to come and take care of the room… but Uryu wouldn’t let them. If they cleaned the room it would be like his grandfather never owned it. They’d already packed away his things, but he could still sense him here. He could still see traces of where the older man had been. He couldn’t let them remove every trace of him from this place. It was his grandfather’s home!

“Uryu… Son, I’ve had enough of this. It’s time to go home.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Was that his voice? Was he crying?

“I’ve had enough of this. We’re taking your grandfather’s things home, I’ve told you this. Now this is quite enough. The people here intend to move someone into this room by tomorrow; I don’t have time for your silliness. Let’s go home.”

“This is my home! I said I’m not leaving! This is grandfather’s house! I don’t care if they want to move someone else in!” He backed up towards the window ledge, almost like he was terrified. He kept shaking his head, clasping onto the wooden window ledge.

“Uryu, stop it.”

A strong hand reached out and clasped his wrists, holding them together and wrenching him upright from the window ledge. He could hear himself yelling out, scraping his feet along the floor as Ryuken pulled him from the safety of the ledge and towards the door. He could see the white walls flashing past him, dragging him towards the darkness of the hallway, the artificial lights blinking threateningly.

“Let go of me! Get off me – I’m not leaving! Let go – let go – why are you doing this – Just let me stay!”

He felt his nails digging into his father’s forearms; it was such a useless fight. He could see himself, he was small and skinny, his father was a fully-grown man, and there was no question that he’d be able to overpower him.

“I can’t deal with you being like this. You’re not a child now.”

He could feel the tears on his own face as he fought desperately to be free of his father’s grip. Snarling and cursing at him… he was never like this, never in his whole life.

“Uryu, he was my father. Don’t you think this is hard on me as well? I miss him too.”

“No you don’t! You hated him – you’re just going to sell his things for your precious money! I hate you!” he was screaming at his father, “I hate you!”

Ryuken stopped short for a moment, staring at him with eyes so like his son’s, he let go of his wrists, his voice was slow and slightly softer as he said, “I don’t care if you hate me. But you’re leaving this place now. It’s not healthy for you to behave like this.”

Uryu stepped back furiously, “You don’t care about him! You’re just angry because you want to get back to the hospital! Why can’t I stay here? If its money you want…” he snatched up his wallet and hurled it at his father’s chest, his whole body shaking with hysteria.

The older man bent down and picked up the wallet, “Don’t be so stupid. We’re going home together.”

“He loved me more than you – the only thing you care about is your money! Just leave me alone!”

There was some hurt on his face, Ryuken pocketed the wallet, and then he shook his head and seized Uryu’s arm, opening the front door and began to drag him outside. With his one free arm, he remembered clasping onto the doorframe, his nails scraping along the edge as he was pulled away.

They had struggled down the hallway towards the flight of stairs. Nobody was around here, he remembered his panic; he had to get back to grandpa’s home. He had to get away from Ryuken and go home –

“Let go of me!”

“Uryu – for Gods sake – just walk down the stairs – why do you always have to make everything so difficult?”

“I never asked you to have me!”

“Well I did so you just deal with it,” he yanked him forwards, making him stumble, his father’s grip keeping him steady, holding him to the staircase.

“Don’t touch me – w-why couldn’t you wait a-a week be-before you gave away his home!” he was crying loudly, his glasses smudged from the tears, his whole form shaking in his father’s grip. “H-He’s only been gone three days – why did you have too…?”

Ryuken took a deep breath, “Uryu, I’m not talking about this again. Your grandfather’s gone. Now act like an adult and face reality. You can’t behave like this.”

It was a slip of his foot, he had to get away from his father, he didn’t want to hear what he was saying – he wanted to go back to his grandfather’s house. Everything about the older man was light and glowing, without him everything seemed to be getting darker and darker…

“I don’t want too!”

He’d shoved his father hard with his other arm, making Ryuken to release him, but the force had sent his foot stumbling off the step, it felt for the slightest second like he was flying – he could see his father’s hand reaching for him, missing him by the smallest amount…

And then he felt his body bashing against the stairs, and he kept going, he kept falling… the pain was excruciating, his arms and legs clashing against a strong more solid surface. Until at last he lay still on the floor, he’d lost his glasses on the way down, and there was blood over his vision, making it even harder to see. He groaned and tried to sit up… but his body was so heavy…

His father was back beside him, he was yelling for help, he was holding his hand, and he could see his white suit stained red…

The last thing that crossed his mind before he slipped into unconsciousness was the fact that he’d never go back to his grandfather’s now.

He was unconscious for two days; he’d broken his left ankle and his right leg, three fingers on his left arm, his right wrist and his nose. He was told his father had waited with him nearly the whole he was unconscious. But he doubted that severely.

At least in those days when they didn’t get along, Uryu showed his father some emotion, he’d yell and fight and cry. After that day, when he woke up in the hospital, he was like stone to Ryuken. He was completely cold, only ever showing him distain or apathy. Sometimes weeks went by without them exchanging two words to each other, Isshin Kurosaki was always trying to promote good tidings between them, but it never worked out.

On that day, Ryuken had taken something from Uryu that he could never return. The two of them would never relate to each other, he doubted his father was sorry for that.

Uryu glanced around the room at the plastic cups and bottles of alcohol he’d bought. This was his father’s house. Uryu wasn’t here often. He lived in a small flat closer to school that Ryuken paid for when Uryu told him there wasn’t much point in him living here. They didn’t see a lot of each other but when they did, it was normally an argument.

Three nights ago, before his father went away on business for a few days, they’ been fighting over Uryu’s college application. He’d been going to visit potential colleges without his father, or even mentioning it to him. They’d argued about it until Ryuken had snapped at him that Uryu acted more like a robot than he did a teenager.

So much for ‘act like an adult’… His father was one of those things were he could be so immature. Normally it was exclusive to idiots like Ichigo or Ganju (who thankfully had gone to college with Hanataro at the beginning of the school year). Normally he treated everything with maturity and care, but in this case, if Ryuken wanted him to act like a teenager, then he would.

Teenagers threw parties that trashed the house and endorsed underage alcohol consumption… Ryuken had requested it, so who was he to disobey his father?

It was almost time for the party to start. He glanced at his watch; he was ready for things to get a little wild, though there were some things he wouldn’t stand for. He wouldn’t touch a drop of alcohol himself, the aim of tonight was to annoy his father, not damage his body.

And Ichigo would probably go out of his way to keep things in shape. He was bringing along his boyfriend, Uryu had only met him once… Jeagerjaques-san? Something like that… Anyway, he should keep the orange haired boy distracted from making this evening too difficult.

The doorbell rang and Uryu rose to his feet, “Well, Ryuken, this is how you wanted it,” he smirked to himself as he stood up and headed out to answer it.

***

“Yer late, dick-head,” was the declarative statement of greeting Hiyori issued. Despite the fact she looked like a prepubescent ragamuffin, she was very prompt, excellent with organization and time keeping. It was a little annoying really.

“Nah, yer just early,” he snapped back at her.

“Yer late, yer too busy stuffin’ yer face, I saw ya in the canteen, Shinji.”

He caught sight of Lisa rolling her eyes and going back to her laptop, he could see its reflection in the large window behind her. She was screening through an album of swimsuit models. He never was 100% sure of Lisa’s sexuality, it wasn’t really the sort of thing you asked her.

“It don’t matter. I ain’t the latest.”

“Yeah, seventh out of eight, yer a fucking national hero.”

She had a potty mouth that girl. Clearly someone never had a spanking as a child. He’d offered to give her one once, but all she’d done was look at him strangely and call him a pervert… Pfft, as if.

Kensei turned up looking damn pleased with himself… a mystery which was completely explained when he caught sight of Shuhei-kun staggering around outside the meeting room to drop off a file. He had to admire Kensei’s nerve; there wasn’t really anything exciting about colleagues fucking at work in the sort of work place where everyone just did there own thing… But here, everyone knew everyone… so a quickie at break was terribly adventurous.

“Well, now Kensei has returned from his… adventures,” Lisa rolled her eyes, closing down her laptop, “We can begin today’s agenda?”

“I’m bored,” Mashiro groaned, leaning on her elbows on the table, “I wanna get back to work – Kensei, you dummy, you held up the meeting!”

The silver-haired man was in too good a mood to really give a damn about the green-haired woman’s complaints; normally he’d flip his lid and wave his arms around like a man possessed by devils.

The eight of them had sat around the meeting table the way they always did, and Shinji would have to remind himself just how much time had passed…

To think all those years ago they had just been eight friends from completely different backgrounds; it had been years since he’d so much as opened a law book… the idea of actually teaching the damn thing seemed a little… mad. He shuddered a little, law and his teaching days brought back bad memories. Sure it had its perks, nice holidays, eager and sometimes quirky students, lots of parties… He had a really big desk, normally piled up with jazz albums, and a bad-ass apartment nearby the campus.

However there was also, starring in most of those memories, a little smudge always skulking behind him… a stupid jazz-hating nerd called Sosuke Aizen. Oh he’d never trusted him, he always took the piss out of him, he could almost hear his words playing in the back of his mind, ‘Yer just crap, Sosuke, ya got no sense o’ fashion, no sense o’ style or music, yer like an old man’. And who could blame him? Sosuke Aizen seemed to be native for ‘fun sponge’… Still, he was a fun sponge who totally double-crossed him.

He wasn’t sure when the boundary changed from the two of them being boss and assistant, but did it. One evening he’d been drinking with Shunsui-san, after the other man had left, he was leaning on the bar, drunk as a skunk, when Sosuke arrived, complaining about something… And being as drunk as he was, he’d gotten into a conversation about their personal lives.

From what he could remember, he’d said something like, ‘I never see ya with a girl, Sosuke.’ (Whenever he spoke to Aizen like this, he’d normally lean on one elbow and pinch his cheek or smack it gently) ‘Never see ya with a girl; yer ain’t got a bad face, why do I never see ya with a girl?’

Aizen had pretended to act flustered, ‘That’s a bit of a forward question, isn’t it, Hirako-san?’

What a dumb ass… such a degrading memory… Shinji could still remember the other man’s words after he’d pressed him a little bit for it. ‘I like being around you. I like hearing your voice, Hirako-san… I had hoped my feelings for you would have been clear by now, it hurts me beyond words that you do not see me the way that I would have hoped.’

That was probably the first time he referred to anyone as his ‘first love’ to try and get lucky. Sosuke Aizen had fucked him in the toilets of that bar, and it was possibly the most humiliating and erotic encounters of his life.

And so it began… it was more like a battle of wits, not loving each other, just screwing. Shinji didn’t think of it as Aizen dominating him. They only fucked when Shinji wanted it, his desk, Aizen’s stupid little assistant desk; the hotel room on the staff meeting, the staircase, against the whiteboard of the classroom, a ski lift… and that stupid little sneak was oh so willing to please him. To the outside world, it would probably look like Hirako-san being so very mean to his assistant as normal. Maybe Aizen hadn’t gotten smarter; maybe Shinji had let down his barriers… He never thought he did. He was likely to go off on a tangent about his ex-assistant, calling him every name under the sun, but perhaps it was just because deep down he knew that he had let what occurred between them occur.

They were a little kinky… even when he was on the bottom; he had a strange sense of dominance when he was fucking with Aizen. He loved it and hungered for more and more. He remembered Aizen taking pictures of him naked, and his mature response of trapping the younger man between his thighs and taking some rather… intriguing photos of him… but he didn’t remember Aizen putting a camera in his room and filming one of their ‘love-making’ sessions.

Sosuke left his position, and the next thing he knew Sosuke Aizen was suing him for sexual harassment. He’d been so angry – the other man didn’t answer his calls. And boy, did he have a case against him… there were people ready to testify to Shinji’s blatant verbal abuse of his assistant, because, let’s face it, he never tried to hide his distain. Aizen never used the photos against him, but he sure as hell used the videotape (the first three minutes had Shinji snatching Aizen’s folders and shoving him onto a bed, taunting him by removing his glasses, pinning him down and dangling them above his face, whispering him that he could only have them back when he’d ‘satisfied him’)…

Shinji was found guilty and fined for most of his money… He remembered after the trial like it was yesterday… He could remember the marks his nails made on the wooden desk before him; he remembered the stupid green tie he was wearing… and he remembered Kensei’s hand on his shoulder as he and Love left the courtroom. Oh, the smirk on his ex-assistant’s face was enough to make him want to rip out his hair. Then as everyone left the courtroom, Aizen had come over and whispered, ‘I’m sorry, Hirako-san, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look so angry’, his words sounded gentle, but they were full of his smug demeanour.

‘Get the fuck away from me.’ Well, what else could he have said? He was certain that if he so much as moved into Aizen’s personal space, the bastard would sue him for more money…

‘I didn’t expect to make you so broke… not that it bothers me too much, I’ll have more than enough money for Arrancar now. Do you remember? My firm, the one you said would be run by ‘drippy-ass lawyers’? I bet you never imagined you’d be the one to fund it.”

‘Well, lookie how that happened,’ he remembered rising to his feet, wishing he had a brief case of something. ‘Now if ya don’t mind, Sosuke, I have better things t’ do.’

He remembered being half way towards the door when he heard Aizen chuckling, and he’d turned around, absolutely livid… The other man simply shot him a charming smile, removing his glasses and brushing his hair out of his face. He’d always liked that look better… ‘You should feel glad that I spared you the embarrassment of the photographs, Hirako-san,’ he teased, his tone level and calm, ‘You know the ones, of you all… flustered, moaning, on your back; you look exceptional that way, I’ll admit. I think I’ll keep them as a memento of our time together.’

Shinji knew it was stupid. Hell if there was anything not to do that day, it was definitely that… He’d dived on Aizen and attempted to bash his head into the cold stone floor… naturally he was removed by Love and Tousen-san (a little toy of Sosuke’s) before he got very far… but the attempt cost him another rather hefty sum.

Still, fuck teaching law! He was a leader in one of the most prominent media organizations in the world, he spend his nights either alone, in good company, or with a sexy model. He never had to avoid the rent man, in fact the only man he avoided these days with Aizen… the big-shot lawyer.

Though he’d never admit it to himself, nobody had quite satisfied him in bed like Aizen had, even now, there was a part of him which twinged inside as he laid eyes on the arrogant son of a bitch in the newspaper.

The closest match was probably Kisuke in his pre-teaching days, ah, Kisuke, there was one swell guy.

Shinji sighed as he noticed everyone seemed to be finished… Hiyori was probably gonna give him some shit on the way out about not paying attention… who cares? He’d been invited out tonight, Ichigo Kurosaki, whose dad was a good friend, had asked him to come to his friend’s party. It was gonna be some high school thing, but he needed to get out. Kensei was going too, with Hisagi-kun, and Hiyori as well (though she’d probably get asked if she was legal to drink…).

He now owned a briefcase and swung it beneath him as he headed out of the office, glancing to his left as he caught sight of a television a group of employees were sat around watching. Great, now his Aizen-senses were tingling as he saw the name Arrancar… Stupid gay television…

Ah, there the bastard was. He seemed to be getting interviewed about some new client of his… He’d heard of Mayuri-san from somewhere. Anyway, there was Sosuke, smirking and glancing up at the camera without a care in the world… what a prick. And there was Tousen-san behind him… There was a pair you could just shoot out of the sky.

Shinji switched off the television and began walking out of the back doors, ignoring the groans of the employees. Tonight he would party and forget all about his unfortunate flashback sequence…

***

Renji had to admit, there was nothing like a house party. And who’d have known Ishida had such an awesome house? It was so big, with like a million rooms; there was definitely room for everyone, even though it was getting a little crowded. He was humming happily to himself, holding the beer bottle in his right hand, it was nine-thirty, he was already slightly red faced and so far having the time of his life (mostly due to the fact he hadn’t seen Yumichika around… yet). Uryu had a karaoke machine, and after she’d had a few, Rukia had sung ‘Take on me’, ‘I believe I can Fly’ and ‘A whole New World’ with him. He waved loftily at her as she sat with Momo giggling over WKD bottles. Looking through the crowds, he could see that guy Stark he’d been introduced too about an hour ago, and that little girly guy who came in with him… Luppi or something… anyway he kept trying to dance sexy on the dance floor… it would have been hot, if he wasn’t so creepy looking.

“Hi, Ichii!” he waved wildly as he spotted the orange haired boy, his gesture nearly knocking over a group of girls nearby. “Ichii, get over here, you missed karaoke, ya bastard!”

Ichigo rolled his eyes, he still looked sour about this whole party… of course he seemed to have used it as an excuse to get lover boy here, but he kept shooting Uryu evils whenever he saw the skinny boy. Renji was sure he’d over heard them arguing yesterday at school as well… Ichigo’s father and Uryu’s father were friends, so that made sense. In a way he had to wonder what on earth Uryu’s dad had done to piss him off so badly.

“Renji, how much have you had to drink?” he scowled, peering down at his bottle.

“Aw, don’t be such a square,” Renji smacked him on the back, leaning in to nuzzle his shoulder affectionately. “Everyone here is drinking, yer the only one not having a good time.”

Ichigo sighed, brushing him off, “I don’t drink, dumb ass. Come on, have Fanta or something after you’ve finished that. Or water.”

Completely unaware of what he was saying, Renji just focused on the fact that Ichigo was looking pretty hot tonight. His t-shirt was really, really tight… it looked good on him, someone’s been working out… Renji smirked a little, wishing he were wearing tight jeans too.

“Hey, Ichigo,” cut in a darker voice, and the redhead looked up to see Grimmjow, now leaning on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He was dressed in a suit, but his shirt was half open, his tie dangling from one side, a cocky smirk on his lips, “and, Renji-kun, hey.”

“Hello, Grimmjow-san,” he smirked, “Ichigo lecturing you about beer too?”

“Oh, so you do it to your friends as well?” Grimmjow chuckled, “Come on, Ichii, just have one beer, it’ll help you relax.”

Ichigo looked slightly faltered, then he smirked, lowering his voice, “Are you sure you want me relaxed with that sociopath around?” he gestured his head to the still dancing Luppi. “Wouldn’t you rather I am alert and ready to kick his ass?”

“I’d rather my Ichigo has fun at a party,” Grimmjow pouted a little.

Renji had to admire the other man’s work… He had could refer to Ichigo at his, he held a lot more weight in persuading him to break the law… nearly a year of dating, and he almost had Ichigo putting out. He could tell…

“You can drink,” the blue-haired man continued, “Just don’t get like that guy,” he gestured with his head to two guys who were singing loudly outside. He and Ichigo both laughed before reclining against the wall to chat to a few more of the adults.

Now that looked interesting. “I’m gonna go check it out,” Renji waved at them before he made his way through the crowded room, passing the kitchen which was full of people making their drinks and laughing loudly. He half wished Izuru was here, that guy was always awesome to party with… even though after a few, he did cry and get awfully huggy. He slipped out of the back door and peered out at the scene before him… so this was were Yumichika was hiding.

The garden was set out in a lot of groups all sat around talking, some of them smoking, one girl was throwing up into the flower-bed, though he couldn’t recognize her from this angle. The group causing the most racket was of course, Ikkaku and… what appeared to be Iba singing loudly in the middle… he couldn’t work out what they were singing, but they were singing it with all their soul, despite being wasted.

Yumichika was sat on a bench nearby… he looked so fucking cute today. He was wearing really tight jeans, his butt always looked really good in jeans like that, and his shirt was baggy but drawn to his slim torso by a little black waistcoat. He must have had a few, because his cheeks went red when he drank (so he didn’t drink that often or very much).

After waving and edging past Ikkaku and the guys, he plonked down beside Yumichika, who instantly looked uncomfortable, his eyes narrowed.

“Hey,” he sighed happily, “You look good.”

“That was the general idea,” Yumichika glanced up at him and smiled slightly, “You look drunk, Renji-kun.”

Renji groaned, rubbing his head, “Don’t call me ‘Renji-kun’, Yumi.”

Yumichika was looking up; probably checking how far away Ikkaku was from him in case he needed to be rescued. He lifted one of his legs up so it rested in front of him, his knees pulled under his chin, dangling one arm loosely against the bench.

“I apologize, Renji,” he shrugged his shoulders, “So, are you enjoying the party?”

“S’okay,” he shrugged, flopping back in his seat, “Better he’s here than out in a club, eh?” he gestured with his head to Ikkaku.

“Thanks for helping me the other day,” Yumichika cut in, “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Renji sat up, a big grin on his face, “Aw shucks,” he scooped an arm around his skinny shoulders, pulling him close into a disjointed sort of bear hug. He licked him affectionately on the cheek, only pulling away when he felt Yumichika’s hands on his shoulders attempting to push him back.

“Hey, hey, is there a problem here?” Ikkaku’s hand was on his arm now and he didn’t sound mad. Renji looked up and saw a pink haze on his best friend’s face. “Renji, Yumi?”

“Nope,” he stood up, dusting himself down.

Ikkaku took his arm, his head on Renji’s shoulder as they moved aside from the others, “Hey, Renji, don’t lick him again, okay, man?” he frowned slightly, “He didn’t wanna come tonight, so don’t give him a reason to leave.”

Renji sighed, chuckling; “I didn’t mean anything by it, Ikkaku. Just wanted to hug him,” he shrugged his shoulders, resting his face against Ikkaku’s head, “You ain’t mad at me, are ya?”

“I ain’t mad.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose ya couldn’t really… I mean, I came outta the house that time, and you were makin’ out with my boyfriend, so you can’t really do fuck all if I wanted to lick him,” he slurred, straightening up and rubbing his face a little.

Ikkaku’s expression pained a little, “Hey, Renji, I said I was…”

“I love you, man,” he flopped on him again, this time making them both fall back into the flowerbed.

The moment seemed lost as they both started laughing and fooling around to get up, Renji was sure he had soil and plant in his hair now, and Ikkaku had a makeshift brown wig from the undergrowth.

“Hey – I’m back with the booze!” called a voice, and Renji’s eyes lit up as he spotted his sempai entering through the garden gate.

Ikkaku had never liked Hisagi-sempai, if Renji remembered correctly, Ikkaku referred to him as ‘a stuck-up, stiff pretty boy with no honour’… a lot of guys were like that about Hisagi-sempai. He was good looking, the girls liked him; he was good at sports, great in class, admired by the teachers and kind to the students, and (the point which really got to Ikkaku), he had nice hair. Ikkaku had been relieved when Hisagi started working at Vizard as it meant he came out less… (Renji and Iba both got on with Hisagi)

A few people cheered and rushed ahead to take the three carrier bags he was holding off him. Renji ran from Ikkaku and dived on the dark haired man, his arms around his shoulders, making them both stumble against the wall.

“Wow, you’re smashed,” Hisagi chuckled, “Urgh, Renji, why are you covered in shit?”

“It’s soil,” he mumbled, nuzzling into his neck, “I missed ya, man.”

“I missed you too,” the older man sighed; batting some of the soil of leaves out of the other’ long, red hair, “Hey, straighten up a sec, I wanna introduce you to Kensei-san.”

“Is that your looovvveeerrr?” he teased, though he did straighten up. He half wondered what this lover of Hisagi-sempai’s would think of his friends: Izuru, who looked like an anorexic emo, Renji, who was covered in soil, leaves, ex-flowers and dirt, while drunk as a skunk… and Momo was pretty drunk tonight too…

“Yes,” he sighed, though he said it firmly, tapping a rather muscled man on the shoulder, “Kensei, come and meet Renji.”

The man had a cigarette dangling in his mouth; he looked a little fierce (nothing compared to Zaraki-san, but still…), older too… he was one of those guys from Vizard, he’d seen him come in with them earlier. “Shu never stops talking about you,” he offered him a hand, smirking a little, “Nice leaves.”

“I don’t always wear ‘um,” Renji mumbled, embarrassed as he shook his hand, “You’re really buff.”

Shuhei laughed, his cheeks going slightly pink, “He’s drunk,” he told his lover, “Hey, Renji, is Izuru around?”

“He ain’t here yet,” he shrugged his shoulders, using the wall to support him, “I sort of miss him around… though by now he’d be around my waist, crying about his crush on Sensei,” he laughed loudly at the memory.

“Oh, so he has a crush on a sensei,” Hisagi chuckled, “Poor Izuru,” he turned back to Kensei for a moment, snatching his cigarette and taking a drag himself for passing it back over his shoulder. “Which one?”

“S’ secret,” Renji shrugged his shoulders, tapping his nose and laughing.

“Shuhei?”

Renji turned his head and caught sight of Yumichika, who had stopped half way towards the door, when he’d spotted the other man… there was a strange sort of smile on his face… one Renji didn’t recognize.

“Is that you, Yumi?” Shuhei laughed out loud and stepped away from Renji, opening his arms and hugging the beautiful man tightly around the shoulders, he could see Yumichika’s arms dangling around his waist as the two of them began to talk ecstatically to each other.

He staggered closer and caught a few lines of the conversation… something like…

“You’re with Vizard too? I never see you at work!”

“Dude, that’s because you’re a model. You don’t get to just wander around HQ.”

“Oh, so now you’re more important than me, huh?”

What the hell was this freak show? Since when were his sempai and Yumichika such good friends?

“So I hear you dated - err?” He gestured his head back at Renji.

“Don’t, I feel bad enough about that.”

“I’ll bet.”

Were they even aware that they were still holding each other? What on earth was going on?

Clearly Ikkaku did too…

“Hi,” he cut in, shoving Shuhei a little, stepping between them and offering him a hand, “Hisagi Shuichi or something, right?”

Well, he’d spoken too soon. It didn’t matter whether he was in a club or not, drunken Ikkaku meant fighting.

“Shuhei,” he corrected him, slightly bemused by the others reaction, but nonetheless apologetic. “It’s nice to see you again, Madarame Ikkaku.” He shot Yumichika a look that said, ‘So you’re still dating little boys?’

“Yeah, wish I could say the same.”

“So, you and Yumi – Yumichika,” he caught himself when he saw Ikkaku’s expression. “You guys are…?”

“I’m his boyfriend,” the bald man said firmly, “Though he seems to have neglected that information?” he shot Yumichika a cold look.

“Ikkaku, don’t be an idiot,” the beautiful man cut in, shoving his lover a little, “Shuhei and I are old friends, we were classmates, remember? Besides, he’s here with someone, so don’t embarrass yourself.”

“I didn’t realize I was over-stepping myself,” Hisagi-sempai sighed, brushing his hair out of his face, “We haven’t seen each other for a while, that’s all.”

Renji groaned… he knew that look – he knew that fucking look! Ikkaku wouldn’t recognize it, he was besotted! But Renji had more sense to know it – it was the look of someone who’d slept with Yumichika… that embarrassed, but proud smile.

Fucking hell – was he gonna go for Izuru next? Was he not going to be satisfied until he’d shagged all his friends?!

But when on earth had it happened? It couldn’t have been while he was seeing Renji… because Hisagi-sempai wouldn’t have done that too him. But before that… Yumichika must have been guys before, because he’d known sooo much more than Renji when it came to their early sex – to think, he’d learnt all that with Hisagi-sempai!

“When did you guys fuck?” Renji had called out, and only when Yumichika and Hisagi’s cheeks went dark did he realize he’d said it out loud.

“What?” Ikkaku snapped, his eyes narrowed, taking one threatening step towards Hisagi.

Yumichika saw the danger and stepped in front of Ikkaku again, “It was years ago – we were fifteen for Gods sake, look, you’re drunk!”

Ikkaku looked like he wanted to get into a fight anyway… and Hisagi-sempai was the type to not fight because his opponent was drunk. And from the looks of things, Hisagi had bigger problems.

“You never mentioned it to me,” Kensei was suddenly behind his lover, a hand on his waist, “How come?”

Renji went to swig down the rest of his beer and scowled when he saw it was empty… He went to complain to Ikkaku, but his friend was now arguing loudly with his boyfriend. Hisagi-sempai kept saying something about ‘it was just teenage messing around’ over and over again… He thought about doing something, when someone bumped into him, knocking him flat on his back, groaning he peered up as he saw what appeared to be a middle school girl stomping past him…?

“Now look whatcha did, Hiyori!” A man with short blonde hair was leaning over him, “Hey, yer okay?”

“I don’t feel very well,” he mumbled, letting the adult pull him upright. His knees were shaky and he felt the hand on his, pulling him towards the door and inside the kitchen.

“That’s c’os you ain’t drunk no water,” Shinji sighed, handing him a glass, he smelt it, “Actually that’s vodka, two seconds,” he leant over the counter-top and produced water this time, “Chug.”

This guy looked about the same age as Kisuke; he was sort of hot though… he had really nice legs, he was really thin but in a lean sort of way. Although he had a really kooky smile… it was a little intimidating.

He drank the water obediently, before setting the cup down, “Thanks, man.”

“Hey, my co-worker knocked ya on yer ass.”

“Co-worker… I thought she was a middle-schooler?”

The blonde guy burst out laughing, he had a quirky laugh, showing off his teeth, holding his sides a little, and after a minute he calmed down, “Yeah, she’s not.”

Renji chuckled, he was sure he’d seen this guy before… “Erm, yeah, I’m Renji.”

“Shinji,” he gave him a half-hearted high five, “I think your friend is trying to set us up,” he gestured with his hand to where Ichigo was waving at them from the other side of the kitchen. The two of them laughed awkwardly at that.

“He must have gotten sick of me coming onto him.”

“Probably, though he’s dense as fuck with stuff like that,” he chuckled, “Ah – yer Kisuke’s boy, ain’t ya?”

Shit… “You know my dad?”

“Oh I know him alright,” he laughed at something, but Renji wasn’t sure what it was, “Erm, yeah, don’t worry, I ain’t gonna tell yer daddy his kid was drunk as a skunk.”

Renji laughed with him, rubbing the back of his head nervously, “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“Just keep telling yerself that,” he patted his shoulder, going to walk past him, “I’m going t’ catch up with our elementary school adult,” Shinji waved at Renji as he opened the door to walk out towards the back gate, “Keep drinkin’ water,” the blonde called before he vanished out of Renji’s vision.

The water didn’t really seem to last him too long, he frowned, licking his lips as he realized there wasn’t any droplets left in the glass in his hand. He looked around the crowded counter-top for something to drink… that Shinji guy… with the creepy smile, had told him to drink water… That bottle was blue, that one was cherry red… that one was black… aha – clear! Renji picked up the bottle, stumbling a little, he wondered briefly if his hazy vision right now was anything like Ishida’s everyday. He grabbed the bottle, unscrewing it, he began to chug it down desperately. The redhead paused, wrinkling his nose… wow… that was straight vodka…

How much of it had he drunk just then? It was nearly full a second ago… and now it came half down the mid-label… urgh, his head felt funny now? Was that karaoke music he heard?

Renji staggered back into the main room, his eyes fell upon a very drunk Rukia, singing her heart out with Momo and… what appeared to be Izuru, he briefly registered the song as ‘My Heart will go on’, damn, Izuru couldn’t have been here long, and he was already trashed. The three of them had their arms around each other, eyes closed, rocking back and forth as they belted out the lyrics… Renji wanted to go and join them; he was about too, when he felt a hand clasp onto his shirt.

Ichigo was drinking? Now that really was a first… he had the cutest blush on his face, he must be one of those people who go red when they drink, his eyes half lidded, Grimmjow must have left him leaning against the wall for some reason.

“Hey, Ichii,” he slumped against the wall next to him, “Where’s scar-face?”

“’Scars on his chest,” the orange haired boy corrected him, “Stupid.”

Drunk or sober, Ichigo was still in the mood to correct him, so it would seem. Wow, he’d seen everyone he’s close with drunk now. All except Ishida, but he wasn’t going to ask for a flipping miracle.

“Don’t call me stupid… whatcha drinkin’?”

“Grimmjow gave me water,” he shook his empty glass, laughing quietly, “I feel like an ass… never drink…”

“That’s why it’s gone straight t’ yer head… stupid.”

Ichigo laughed a little, pressing his head against Renji’s shoulder, “I better not have one of those… over hangs…”

“Hang-over,” he slipped an arm around Ichigo’s waist, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he felt that hot body pressing up against him… He must be like Izuru, loosing all personal space issues when drunk.

Ichigo grunted a little, “Urgh, whatever…” he nuzzled his face against his shoulder. “Yer hair smells good,” he said after a moment, tugging it so Renji would let it down from a rather untidy ponytail. Renji sniggered a little as his long hair tumbled over Ichigo, covering him in a makeshift crimson wig.

“So where’s Grimmjow?”

“He’s off talking to Luppi,” he rolled his eyes, “His ex… actually, I don’t think they were even dating,” Ichigo sounded slightly defensive about that last point.

Renji cast a look around the crowded room, and in a far corner, through an array of dancing teenagers; he spotted Grimmjow’s blue hair, and what appeared to be that creepy dancing guy from earlier… Wow, what a leap in bedmates… small dark and scary to Ichigo.

“They get on?”

“Nah,” he rubbed his head, making his way out of the long hair cloaking him, “Luppi came over started making trouble, he shoved me or something.” Now shoving drunken Ichigo would result in him landing on his front, looking a bit confused… (His hypothesis from the suddenly very cuddly individual at his side, nestled in his hair) But try that shit out on sober Ichigo, and you’d probably need a doctor. “Anyway, Grimmjow took him over there…”

“He pissed about you dating ol’ blue hair?”

Ichigo nodded, “Something like that… sounds like a weirdo to me…”

“Grimmjow talk about him a lot?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “Told me something about… vibrators or something.”

Renji laughed out loud at that, Grimmjow certainly didn’t look like the type to be into all that kinky shit. Renji had been curious about it once, but of course these thoughts had been raised and dropped by persuading (somehow) Yumichika to masturbate with a dildo in front of him… he’d gotten a little jealous… His face coloured up at that memory… Yumichika always laughed at him, he said the cutest thing about dating Renji was that he was so eager to please. He took another swig of a random bottle he found on the counter-top, smelt like whisky to him… Hmm.

“Is Grimmjow into all that?”

“I have no idea,” Ichigo laughed.

“What, well, so you guys still haven’t… you know?”

Ichigo went a little pink, and then he chuckled, holding Renji’s shoulder and beckoning him closer, making a series of ‘Shh’ sounds, before whispering, “I gave him a hand-job the other day.”

Wow… Ichigo was cute.

“Just a hand-job?” Renji asked quietly, “so he hasn’t fucked you yet?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Ichigo slurred, “I don’t wanna just… you know, just fucking do it?”

“Aw,” he teased, rocking them both gently, “are you scared? It’s your first time,” he sang laughing quietly, causing Ichigo to ineffectively smack him in the face.

“Shut your mouth.”

He looked embarrassed and sufficiently withdrawn now. Renji sighed, leaning in a little closer, he kept his voice down, “Are ya worried that you’re not… experienced or whatever? I mean, he’s what? Twenty-something, that’s a pretty big age-gap.”

Ichigo rubbed his head a little, “yeah… I guess it does bother me… I mean, I’m fifteen, I have more to loose if it goes bad… ya know?”

Renji kissed his hair, he didn’t know why, but it smelt good, and having Ichigo here like this… it was too tempting, he had to kiss him somewhere and Ichigo would probably have less chance of noticing if it was just his hair. Yumichika never let anyone kiss his hair; Renji had done it once when they were in the bath and he’d flipped out at him and made him get out.

“Did ya just kiss my hair?” Ichigo asked, peering up at him curiously.

“Maybe,” he smirked, mostly through alcoholic courage.

Ichigo chuckled, reaching up and tugging Renji’s hair down to kiss it back, a challenging grin on his face, “Ha, take that.”

***

Grimmjow chuckled darkly as he clasped onto Luppi’s shoulder, “You know, I’m sick of your shit, you little fucker.”

“I dropped the charges about you,” Luppi laughed, sipping his beer, fluttering long dark eyelashes and peering up at the blue haired man, trying to make his appearance more cherub like. “All you have to do is sit through a nice long meeting, and come on, Grimmjow, since when do you care what Tousen-san thinks of you?”

He rolled his eyes, pinning the other against the wall harshly, “Don’t try and play innocent with me, you little bitch,” he snatched the beer and slammed it against the counter-top, “Quit stalking me, and quit bothering my boyfriend.”

“Did I do anything?”

“You came over talking shit to him, then you shoved him,” he jerked the smaller man up so his feet dangled above the ground.

“Are you getting rough with me?” Luppi taunted, he didn’t struggle instead he raised a leg and wrapped it around the broader man’s waist, fastening it so his foot rubbed against his backside. “Because you know how I liked you getting rough with me.”

Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed in irritation, “Hey, aw for fucks sake,” he tried to detach the leg, yanking at it with his free hand, “What part of ‘I never wanted to date you’, didn’t you understand?”

Luppi pouted, “Oh come on, you’re a man with an… appetite for sex,” he lifted his hands and yanked Grimmjow to him. He clasped both of his thighs around his waist, locking his feet together, “That fifteen year old can’t satisfy you… why wait for a virgin who won’t enjoy it and won’t make you feel good?”

“It’s not all about sex,” he grumbled, still trying to detach the two of them, “I should probably point out that you look even younger than Ichigo… and you’re a fucking nutcase,” the blue haired man yanked the other off, shoving him against the wall, “Don’t try it again.”

Luppi rolled his eyes, “Oh be fair to yourself,” he lifted a hand and pointed to the other side of the room, “How come your little strawberry gets to mess around with other guys, but you’re being a celibate?”

Grimmjow went to hit him, when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. His blue eyes widened in shock and he had to turn his back on Luppi (something he was never normally brave enough to do), just to clarify his eyes weren’t betraying him… There was Ichigo, his Ichigo, making out with Renji? What the fuck was this?! As bold as brass, he could see Ichigo’s arms around the other, one hand holding his chin in place, the other gripping his waist. The redhead’s arms were around Ichigo’s back, one reaching down to caress his backside.

His lips drawn into a snarl he stomped over to the two teenagers, his hand clasping onto the back of Abarai’s shirt, he yanked him off his boyfriend. The redheaded teenage stumbled onto the ground, landing on his back, looking delirious and confused. He turned his furious gaze to Ichigo, softening slightly when he saw the drunken flush on his pink cheeks, the hazed over look in his eyes… he was totally out of it… Shit, this was all his fault… he’d been the one who nagged Ichigo into drinking a lot when he didn’t normally.

Grimmjow snatched Ichigo’s wrist and pushed him onto the sofa, he noticed a few of the kids were looking over at the scene. He recognized Rukia-chan from the others, and he beckoned her over. She was drunk, but definitely more sober than the likes of Ichigo and Renji.

“Hey, take care of him please,” he grumbled, “He’s out of his face.”

“Erm, sure,” she looked down worriedly at Ichigo, and the unconscious Renji who had curled up on the floor in what looked like a pool of his own vomit… the look on her face said ‘I don’t want to be the one helping him wash his hair later’. He didn’t blame her.

He felt so angry… some of it at Ichigo for kissing someone else… but most of it at himself… he knew how Ichigo felt about drinking alcohol, he’d nagged him and nagged him and now he was so drunk he probably didn’t know his own name. The lawyer slammed the front door shut behind him, hugging his sides slightly, it was probably dumb to run off without his coat… and it was bloody cold out here.

“Hey, Grimmjow – hey, I’m talking to you!”

He groaned and turned back towards the door, where a rather merry looking Stark was rushing after him, carrying a bunch of coats and jackets. Grimmjow rubbed his head, not only had he stormed out dramatically from a party, but he was being followed by a drunken counter-part of the laziest man he knew.

“You didn’t need to follow me out here,” he said after a few minutes, now wearing his coat which Stark had picked up among others (he said he’d forgotten what sort of coat Grimmjow was wearing, so picked up a few possibilities).

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly wanna stay. Just a bunch of kids, a few guys from Vizard, and Luppi,” he rolled his eyes at the mention of the younger man, “I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand that guy for too long,” he shivered jokingly.

The blue haired male laughed with him, brushing his hair out of his face, “Yeah, same…”

Stark took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit up, still carrying the coats under his arm, “So, erm… you calling a taxi?”

“I probably should,” he admitted, “If you wanna go home, I suggest you drop off those coats back there before we leave.”

“Yeah, probably,” the lanky man chuckled, dropping the coats onto the garden wall and taking out his cell phone as he and Grimmjow began to make their way down the darkened street, “So, are we using the same taxi service as last time?”

“There wasn’t a last time; I’ve never gotten into a ride home with you on a night out… Since…” he reminded him, “You and Ulquiorra and… I think Nnotria was with you…? Anyway, the three of you got into a van with some stranger and I didn’t hear from you for two days.”

Stark went a little pink, rubbing at his stubbly chin, then laughed out loud at that memory, “Oh yeah! That was ages ago – you stopped Luppi from getting in with us, and Ulquiorra came along because Nnotria and I were trashed and he didn’t trust us not to get into trouble!”

Grimmjow winced… that was also the night Luppi and he first got it on… against the door of Luppi’s apartment after they’d walked home. Ah a night to remember…

“Anyway, I’ll call up the service I always use,” he turned away from Grimmjow slightly to address the phone.

The shorter man stretched, he still felt lousy… Rukia would take care of Ichigo, and maybe tomorrow he’d pop around to see him, bring him chocolate or something to make up for it. Still, Ichigo and Renji kissing… he definitely wasn’t expecting that to go and happen.

***

Shinji had left it a little while before going after Hiyori, charging straight after her would only have resulted in a severe kicking. That damn woman looked small but underestimating her would most of the time result in hospitalisation. The two of them were often together and would seek out each other’s company over anyone else’s, but not even Shinji could remember the last time they’d said anything remotely pleasant to each other. Ha, must be what folks call ‘chemistry’.

He brushed his hair out of his face; he must have gone the wrong way… He was infamous for doing things backwards, so he’d probably gone down the opposite street. The blonde pulled his jacket tighter to him, “Damn it, Hiyori,” he grumbled, “Where the hell did ya go?”

Taking a step down the left, Shinji Hirako peered down the empty street; there wasn’t even the odd couple canoedelling in one of the cars… that was a shame because he’d have enjoyed freaking them out by walking real close to the car. He chuckled to himself, hands in the pockets of his coat as he took the next street upwards; this was a nice neighbourhood so there wasn’t much chance of running into trouble. There were some places were looking like you had money could result in death… or whatever. He yawned into his hands, and then frowned when he heard some noise from the next street… Now that sounded characteristically like Hiyori… Shit…

“Hey – fuck off; don’t touch me, dick-head!”

Of course he’d never admit to another soul for as long as he would live, but on hearing that, Shinji felt a ripple of panic dance through him. He broke off into a run down the street, all sorts of thoughts rushing through his head at the idea of someone hurting her – sure she could handle herself, but what if there were a group of big guys – what if they hurt her? Almost tripping as he sped into the alleyway, he instantly slowed down, feeling the panic which had been bubbling up inside him like an explosion; begin to dissolve away like it had never existed. Infact the scene before him… was kinda funny.

Hiyori was stood over the body of a badly beaten man. He was huge, twice the bulk of Shinji (which wasn’t difficult really, but he was too proud to admit he was damn skinny), with bright blue hair… and he was bleeding, like someone (most likely Hiyori) had smacked him in the head with something. Upon further inspection, he noticed the skinny blonde woman was holding a bin lid like a knife.

***

This really wasn’t his night. Some part of him had to wonder if this was his punishment for getting his boyfriend to drink alcohol against his better judgement. Ichigo had made out with his best friend… and he’d been beaten up by what appeared to be an angry middle-school girl.

It was so fucking stupid!

Stark had been acting like a dumb ass while they waited for the taxi, and had fallen down a small hill and landed on someone at the bottom. He’d fainted pretty instantly, but Grimmjow had run down and saw a little shaking body and ponytails. Naturally he was terrified that Stark had hurt some poor lost brat. So he had approached the girl and touched her shoulder…

He couldn’t quite remember what he’d said… but it was something like ‘Are you okay? Where are your parents?’… And the damn girl grabbed the nearest bin lid, yelled something and smacked him in the head!

Before he lost consciousness, he learnt that apparently (from her loud shouts after he’d fallen on the ground) the girl wasn’t the child he’d suspected, but actually a twenty-five-year-old executive of some kind… Which left his drunk and now concussed mind wondering if this child appearing twenty-five-year-old executive was going to kill him?
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Romance and Rivalries

Chapter Ten