Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Grind	By : PhoenixDiamond Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 2358 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nada and make nada. The Bleach crew belongs to Tit Kubo. I own the plot

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Prologue 2: Too Late To Stop
Ichigo was livid. Better yet, he’d rather go with pissed royally the fuck off at the current moment. He’d wasted a total of three minutes leaking through the multi-colored scene looking for a spout of crimson or ebony but damn if that wasn’t like finding a needle in the hay stack. Renji just had to be born a red hair amongst all these bright ass colors raining from the ceiling. With Rukia being knee high to a duck, there was no telling where she got lost.
Spouting indigos, transparent crimsons and a multitude of vibrate hues tennis balled for a split second of recognition on the crowd of faces, none of them being the two folks he was searching for.
Could the night get any—no the thought wasn’t worth finishing off. He had exactly two minutes to pick through the elbow spaced crowd and find either Rukia or Renji to give up their car keys, otherwise his chances of screwing or being the screwed by the finest man on earth were going to be sunk.
Damn Grimmjow. Hmph this man was something else. Already thirty minutes into the scene, and Ichigo hadn’t planned on leaving the joint until well pasted midnight. But for a fine ass piece of work like Grimmjow, he was definitely aiming for those double doors faster than you could send a wink. Ichigo was flat out fascinated, captivated, bewitched or whatever cracked through his impenetrable armor.   The crop of sky blue hair, the strike of natural lightning marine in his eyes, amd that—Jesus Christ—that smile; oh he had teeth for days but in a good way of course. They were straight, Colgate white and possessed canines sharp enough to chew metal. There was no telling what ole dude was working with underneath the clothes because they were sort of heavy set but if they’re as thick as this man’s ego, the neighbors were going to learn how to spell Grimmjow’s whole name tonight.
“Fuck, where dey’ at?” Ichigo pissily spat, ducking and weaving around couples, some cat calling gentleman and ignoring the strokes of interest along his chest and arms. Too many small fish in here to fry, he had his goal seat for a taste of blue.
Ichigo shook his shaggy carrot strings in annoyance; by the time he made it across the congested dance floor he hadn’t spotted a single one of his friends. He didn’t feel up to traveling half way through Mary’s Valley like that again.
The wall became his guide, palming his hand on the dingy surface, squeezing through the lack of spacing while keeping a close eye out for either a six foot two head of scarlet or a four foot eleven spider crown. There was no telling where either person was at the given time since both had spotted potential eye candy and by now were screwing the living daylights out of them.
Hold it. He miscalculated. Renji, he knew probably jetted for the evening but Rukia still had to be in here. The honey dip she eyed was the main DJ tonight. Either she was hanging by the booth or waiting nearby. Ichigo decided to test that theory and aimed straight for the jutted juke box. One gold spotlight hovered over her head, showing the bucking head of sea form and if he squinted hard enough, the blending black background was showing his spider head easing up on the girl.
Burnishing slips of Chamillionare’s Ridin’ Dirty and some Lil Wayne were ripping and tearing through the loud speakers, damn near taking away his God given hearing when he passed by the bumping system. “Yo!” He summoned over the music.
His call wasn’t heard. Ichigo circled around the boom box until he could reach out tapping the DJ on her hip to grab her attention. A wire caught on the tip of his foot as he stepped up closer. The girl’s magenta eyes rolled as she leaned down to scowl her displeasure at being disturbed. “What’s up?” She hollered over the songs. “Ain’t no more requests for the next hour.”
Ichigo tip toed to say in her ear, “Ta’ bad ‘cause I got one.” He extended his index to the midget woman, toying around with some of the equipment, “Grab ‘er for me.”
There was hesitation, followed by a hard frown. The DJ surveyed over her shoulder at the little lady she’d been chatting with then down to the one asking for her attendance. “She yo’ dime?”
“Da’ fuck? Hell nah—Can ya just get ‘er for me? Damn,” Ichigo ain’t had a girl in ages, and he wasn’t trying to return them soft days. The nerve of this chick, thinking he’d really come across the dance floor just to pick up a piece. It ain’t even that serious.
Ichigo waited as he and the DJ exchange some bitter looks before she determined him not worth handling the way she wanted and sashayed over to Rukia’s two stepping self, talking loud and throwing her thumb over her shoulder at Ichigo. The conversation was tuned out by the massive melodies, but he could do pretty well with translating lip language. The chick wasn’t too happy about a man shagging up to her booth acting like hot shit, asking for a girl she wanted. Rukia sends a terribly bitter scowl his way and explains that he’s nothing but a close friend. The green haired DJ wasn’t too convinced, muttering handle yours as she returned to scratching on her table.
Ichigo would’ve laughed at the twisted frown on Rukia’s face as she tried to talk to the girl some more, only to get a cold shoulder and shrug to back off her. There was no humor in cock blocking someone’s possible fuck. Rukia was mad beyond herself when she stomped over to the edge of the booth, eyes so dark with rage they almost looked purple. “What?” She snapped as she leaned over, so pissed she almost fell over.
“Shut up,” Ichigo countered fast. “I ain’t stuttin’ you.”
“Then why da’ hell did ya come up here stupid?”
Ichigo leaned forward, “Cause I need to borrow ya car. I’m headin’ out early.”
“I didn’t drive up here,” She hollered back. “My brother dropped me off ‘round da’ corner.”
Option one just got deleted; that left only one other choice. “Ya know where Renji at?”
Rukia thought a sec, flexing her fingers on the thick metal booth, “I think he already left. I saw ‘em leave ‘bout ten minutes ago.”
If that fool left him here just to roll out with—yes he was planning to do the same, but Ichigo was going to be pissed if Renji beat him to the punch. “Damn.”
“What?” Rukia yelled as the songs grew louder. “What’d ya say?”
“Nothin’,” Ichigo stepped back. “I’ma look see if he’s still around. Be careful ta’night.”
“What!”
Ichigo craned his signature scowl back to his friend who only shrugged, playfully winking as she swaggered back to the thick bodied female she hoped was still feeling up on making music tonight.



“Nice an’ slow baby,” Red hair buckled back as that spot was hit just right. “Sssss yeah just like ‘dat. Work it fer me.”
“How ya like it daddy?”
“Oh daddy likes a whole lot.”
“Wanna go slower?”
“Yes, shit yeah. Don’t stop.”
That throaty rasp was prickling around his nerves like a cosmic shower.
Renji was thanking his lucky stars he rented out this 2010 Tahoe Hybrid. It was just long enough to fit most of his six plus height and keep the head of his riding passenger from bumping the ceiling. The air was hot, it was musky with the smell of intercourse and sweet baby Jesus Renji was slowly sinking in a puddle of sticky goo.
The widest and most mischievous smile slithered over his lips as fingernails tugged on a pair of narrow hips, levitating and falling down on his dick.
His shoes were mangled in the corner of the truck, his dark colored jeans still hung low around his ankles. Abarai hadn’t had the patience to fully remove his polo, half clung over his shoulder and off on his left arm, bouncing with its owner.
The white haired beauty he’d spotted in the club was sitting snug on his lap while he laid on his back, crimson locks spread all around in a bloodied halo. Milk smooth skin pulsed under his grasp, an ass as thick and firm as basketball rolled and resettled on top. Boiling pools of sweat broke out on his forehead, slipping around his eyes and sizzling over the rest of his perspired face. Random loose clumps clung to the side of his face, coiled around his neck with one lone piece slapped between his eyes.
His hands slid up and down the more slender man, feeling and grasping over everything he could reach. A chocolate nipple, the swell of muscle on his chest or looping around the span of endless white hair, spilling around their waists like a forbidden curtain. Renji always loved them with long hair; it made it easier keeping control even when he was the one being ridden.
All the fire, this heat of the moment speared to the bottomless chords strung around his stomach, coiling and stretching like a slinky.
Renji must’ve made a touchdown. Babe was screwing his sable brown eyes tight. It was the sexiest thing Renji seen in a long time, watching as another man found their leg jerking pleasure on his dick. All that pride evolved into something creamy stroking his ego as he wagged his pelvis in a teasing grind against the nameless figure.
Maple syrup eyes hazily gazed down the man filling him to the brim as he ran his delicate nails all over the rise and falling valley of inky tattoos and gorgeous muscles flexing beneath his feathery touch. Everything about him was beyond sexy as hell. That predatory smile Renji charmed and the way he looked through that fan of red hair was such a wild turn on. They were barely getting enough.
Renji felt the off balance cue in his hips as the orgasmic pull began to surface. His thrusts were shortening, he wasn’t able to keep the same pace as he was going, things were getting faster.
Renji’s moves were sudden as he flipped positions, being the one in full control. Babe was flat on his back, legs wrapped tight around Renji’s quivering hips as breathless grunts snarled through his teeth. He gripped a hand around one of the sock clad ankles, lifting it on his shoulder and dove deeper, losing his train of thought as the mingles of skin rung beautifully inside the car.
The beautiful man was gasping, jerking and arching to meet the fierce moves. His deep voice was ragged and soured from the saliva clogging his windpipes.
“Oh shit, ah shit baby yes,” The pale haired man wisped breathlessly. “So close, oh yes so close.” All his fingers coiled over the red stressed sex, pumping in stride with Renji’s speed.
“Fuck,” Hissed Renji. “So good baby, so fucking good.” This felt so good. The spasming around his cock, the whimpering calls of wanton pleasure fogging up the windows. Sweat dribbled off his face as he willed all his strength to hold out as long as he could to keep this passion rolling.
Salty water stung at his eyes, the chime of his belt buckle rattled against the furred back seat. His growls filled the back of his throat as he slammed a flat palm on the side of his partner’s head, using his other to lift his hips higher. The new position roared all kinds of new sexy pitches from below. Renji’s grin couldn’t get any wider. Cocky arrogance had him licking his dry crackled lips.
There was an erratic tightening around his length, uncontrollable vibrations happening. His partner was about to come. All the stress squeezing around Renji was pushing him over the feverish edge. He was so closer. So fucking closer.
Through the thick stench of sex and weed and the desperate wailing of the sweetheart underneath him, Renji was completely unaware of the intruder opening the back of the truck until a swoosh of cool evening air grazed the crack of his ass. Ichigo shamelessly clapped a hand on Renji’s shoulder and pulled him back, making the red hair perfectly aware of his presence.
“Oi, Renji. I need ta’ borrow the car.”
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” The stunned man shouted. “Do ya not see me in da’ middle of somethin’?”
“Who the hell is this?” The milky haired man nearly screened. One of his hands fondled around until finding his disposed shirt and covered over his privacy and body the best he could.
“My bad brah,” There wasn’t a shred of sincerity in Ichigo’s voice as he hoped on the side of the truck, going through Renji’s pocket. He’d already wasted twenty damn minutes looking for his ass so he was far from giving a damn that he interrupted his fuck time. “Where da’ keys?”
“Ichigo, get the fuck outta here!” Renji’s toes were curling and unfolding desperately as his stimulated cock twitched with a mind of its own to carry on. Unfortunately the action was dismembered bit by bit as the used-to-be willing partner lost interest.
A soft sigh broke through Renji’s anger as the older gentleman pulled himself up on his elbow, tugging his ass free of Renji’s half erected dick. “I’ll just go.”
“No, No, No, he ain’t anybody, baby. He’s just a friend,” Renji was throbbing with the pain of near completion. He only needed a few more seconds before he escalated to that wilted peak.
But the partner was already climbing into his clothes, eyes crinkled on the edges as a smile pulled the muscles in his handsome face. “Friend he may be, but I’m not the type to fuck in front of anybody.” Both shoes were tied on and the young man scooted off on the edge of the drop down until his feet planted on the rain soaked pavement.
Renji crawled to the gapping truck entrance, tangled messily in his clothes and hair spattered wildly around his eyes. “Ah baby come on, ya trippin’. Just a lil’ bit more.” He snatched one of the man’s hands, pulling it to his lips to kiss. “Yer stuff was so good. I can’t get enough.”
There was flattered laughter as the slender figure, loosened his hand from Renji, “I know it is, but I have more class then that. Fucking in the back of your car was already pushing it. Having an audience is going too far.”
“But babe. . .” Renji didn’t care if he was whining like a baby. All that they’d done was still tingling in the pit of his stomach and he was ready to unleash the dragon.
The skinny man, chuckled shaking his head as he reached inside his pocket detaching a piece of paper from his hand to Renji’s. “Your stuff was good too Daddy. Give me a call when you have more privacy.” He leaned forward, placing a sweet kiss on Renji’s lips. At first it was pleasant, a little sweet, but with Renji being in the mode of conquest that he was, one little kiss wasn’t going to catch it. His large hand cupped the back of his lover’s head, deepening the kiss in hopes of tempting him back into his car.
But there would be none of that. The pale haired man nibbled off the kiss, teasing with the tip of his tongue wagging in view. Renji pitifully whimpered opening his mouth to swallow the offered bounty but almost fell on his ass when the man stepped back. A wink was presented and a step back poised the lovely for departure.
All of Renji’s hopes, his dreams of tonight ending on a bed of roses, and all that other colorful rainbow shit was gone with the sultry lift and flex of those swaying bubble cheeks, going further and further away. He wistfully sighed, looking down at the paper in his hand.
Juishiro 621-957-8329
The good news, he got the number of a honey he was definitely going to call back. The bad news was as Renji turned over his shoulder to glare at the bastard responsible for costing him a good lay, he was too busy scouring through his clothes and the front seat to give a damn. “I swear ta’ God,” he grumbled to himself as he pulled up his pants and tugged off his shirt.
“You a real piece of work ya know that?” Renji bit off as he hoped in the passenger seat, looking at his best friend look through the compartments for the keys. “What da’ hell is so got’damn important you had to mess up my pussy time?” He shook all his hair to the front, gathering it in a single bunch as he reached inside the glove compartment for a rubber band.
“I need ta’ borrow the car. I need the keys. Where are the keys?”
Renji gave him a look, swearing there’d better be more to this. “Ya’ need da’ car for what?”
“To fuck.”
“To be the fucker or fuckette?”
“Neither if I don’t find the fuckin’ car keys!”
“Don’t be raisin’ ya voice at me,” Renji warned, turning his head to the side as he fixed up his messy ponytail. “I’m already pissed ya came in messin’ with my game. I outta dunk yo’ ass in da’ . . . . shit.” The last part trailed off as he threw back all of his hair, immediately bringing into someone into view.
And not this anyone.
This someone was giving Renji a whole new reason to appreciate his manhood as they strolled in front of their car, eyes aimed straight ahead, hands stuffed tight in a pair of khaki slacks. “Damn he fine,” Came his lip licking declaration.
“Who is?” Ichigo absentmindedly questioned as he leaned on the side of the car, still searching for his keys.
“Him, the blue haired man—where you going?”
Ichigo was already scrambling to get out of the car when the words blue hair was said. There’d only been on in the whole club sporting that entire natural blue and he wasn’t letting that get away.


Grimmjow had been patient, which was saying a lot for man with his city known temper. He wasn’t the type to wait on anyone for longer than two minutes at best and here he’d gave that orange haired flavored piece a full twenty. What possessed him to let this young buck be any different from the rest, he didn’t know. Maybe it was mild fascination because the kid had a head full of sunshine that he wanted to snag between his fingers while he fucked him raw, or maybe it had something to do with the long lean legs clad in his acid stained jeans.
Many factors played in the mix mostly dealing with attraction but truth be told, Grimmjow wasn’t anyone’s run of the mill dog. Having to wait meant that whatever he chose to stay for had priority in his book. He didn’t know this Ichigo from a can of beans. They’d talked for a hot five minutes at best, consisting of learning each other’s first name and waiting to get involved intimately for a single night of passion.
No, he was lying to himself. He knew why he considered the Candy Corn worth stalling for. This Ichigo had something he wanted to sample and it would’ve been a rewarded distracted for what he had to do by the end of the month; a deal he needed to have accomplished.
One bullet, one heart. That was the plan.
He was caught up in a web of lies and a revenge continuum that was older then himself at twenty. Life ain’t been easy for a man like him. He had to grow up by the age of eight and learn to ride or die by eleven. Did he regret a moment in his past? Hell no. He’d gladly live by that way again and he still does it to this day.
It all started on the day he got his ass snatched in half by five of the toughest foot soldiers and left for dead until that following morning. He couldn’t seek help, or dare move. It was a test of strength to see if he could pass on; be worthy of the family. That task took a full two weeks of recovery but afterwards he got what little respect he could. Next came the basics of stealing cars for theT.G’s (Tiny Gangsta), dealing drugs for the O.B.G’s (Original Baby Gangsta) and soon he was working it up to being employed on the monthly by O.O.O.G. (Triple G). Gaining a steady status quickly placed him in the ranks of two categories.
The first being one half of the city’s most respected man and the second was the remaining percentage wanting to see his blood as the design on the trash guttered streets. That probably would happen someday but he wasn’t going out like a pussy. That blaze of glory every Crib or Blood dreamed of was the best way to go about it so long as they rode for theirs.
This part of town was under his watch, a piece of territory he had to be sure stayed shadowed in blue. The Crip Alliance in this general area was E/S Kelly Park Compton Crips and Kansas Jay Hawks who called in a favor to the O.G. to have a snitch taken care of by the end of the next thirty days. Grimmjow was given the job since his record was flawless and always done in a timely manner. This person, believed to be a traitor, has been snooping under radar making contracts and stealing merchandise for a couple of weeks for another gang known as the Tree Top Pirus. Four flat screens, five remodeled Cadillac’s and two drugs houses were ambushed in a matter of two weeks without warning.
A lot of shit was lost, lives fizzled out and to make things worse, strength wise, the Alliance was being mocked because of it. Grimmjow couldn’t have that now could he?
There could’ve only been one person to handle that, and that was why Blue Baby G was out looking for his ass. A name graciously given to him by The Double G and Triple G of his pack.
Grimmjow theorized he’d be in this area after setting some connections here and there. He only one a decent description of what he was supposed to be searching for; dark haired, heavy built, short haircut, and pudgy faced. A real full blown hard-ass, or how he’s often tried to portray himself to be. Nakeem Greendina was the name and chances were he was floating around this neck of the woods, looking for an easy snag. This was part of the reason Grimmjow picked this particular club since the rep for it was number two in the top five.
He’d had no luck here. Well except for attracting a sexy little candy corn. That’d been the best part of the evening. Too bad he either dipped out or took too long handling his business, because Grimmjow was heading out.
Ass was a dime a dozen for him.
It was only out of that dozen, oh so few came to be as . . . what’s the word? . . . magnetizing on the eyes as Ichigo. There was this level of spunk and attitude Grimmjow wanted to explore more with him. Those eyes of his were full of fire; nothing but sweet honey wrapped inside a bundle of caramel flesh.
A sin walking on some stilts; like a swagger made of seduction. Damn pity.
Grimmjow clicked off the alarm to his 2012 massive bodied Chevy Avalanche, polished so smooth he could see the figure of someone rolling up fast behind him in its navy coated exterior. Someone coming up hard from behind usually signaled trouble. Internal instincts automatically flared, his hand trailed down to the crotch of his pants where he kept a bronzed colored Walter P-99 stashed in case of emergencies. The only reason it wasn’t dragged out, filling the entire parking lot with gun powder was because of his name hollering out from a gruff voice, he thought he wasn’t going to see again.
“Yo’ Grimmjow,” Ichigo jogged up, bending down to his knees as he came to a halt. “Damn ya didn’t hear me callin’ ya?”
Grimmjow debated on answering, before cocking a shoulder. “Nah, ta much goin’ on out here to hear shit. Ya good?” He asked when Ichigo was taking deep breaths as if he’d just ran the Kentucky Derby on speed.
“ ‘m fine. Just gotta take a sec to get my wind. I’m cool,” Ichigo straightened his back, eyes wrinkled in a sassy grin. “So ya still wanna hang ‘er what?”
A pregnant pause, then, “Didn’t ya say ya wanna follow? How ya gettin’ home?”
“I c’n call my friend to pick me up from wherever. No big deal.” There was no one around to interrupt. Grimmjow was standing right in front of him like a hungry tiger. God help him, Ichigo wanted to be his piece of meat too. “So ya still game to make me hot?”
A blue coursed brow rolled up over Grimmjow’s right eye as he laid an elbow on the hood of his truck, “Dunno, ya plan ta’ stick ‘round this time?” Eyes narrowed half lidded as he wrapped his muscular arm around Ichigo’s waist, slowly pulling him against his wall of hot, sculpted, and very defined chest muscles.
Ichigo licked his lips, feeling a little bolder with this dangerous man as he put his lips a lick away from Grimmjow’s own, “I’ll stay as long as ya want me to baby.” Each fingertip teased down over the designer made shirt, mentally determining white lied beneath the cape.
Ichigo instantly went cotton mouthed as he felt over lands and mounts cut up hills and solid foundations that could only be made of solid steel. Every piece of flesh his hands traveled over, there was a deep line that separated each one away from the other. Ichigo swooed his mind clouded with the way his tongue would tingle at tasting each sexy portion of this man’s body.
Grimmjow chuckled darkly, “Ya like meh body eh?”
“I love it,” Ichigo sultrily replied. “S’nice.”
“Mmm.”
Ichigo almost jumped when a large warm hand cupped his back side, fondling over his firm ass. “Nice ass. I like ‘em thick and juicy.” A squeeze confirmed that. It hurt a bit, with pain came pleasure right. IThe move shoved Ichigo’s crotch to taunt the blue haired devil’s dick, rubbing suggestively and ringing a sinister growl from his throat.
“Ya like ‘em juicy?” Kurosaki scrubbed his crotch into the thick material, whispering “I like ‘em hard.”
Grimmjow angled his head to the side of Ichigo’s head, pressing his lips hard in his head. “Don’t tease me lil’ boy. I don’ play.”
His voice sent a crooked line of molten lava to the center of Ichigo’s belly. Grimmjow’s voice had that kind of bass that rumbled throughout your entire body. It carried too impossible for him to whisper. Damn he smelled good too. Like that old scented spice and manly musk with a twinge of Kush fanning from his lips and . . . did he smell Purple?
“Whatcha gonna do Candy Corn?” Grimmjow yanked him around his waist, stirring the carrot head from his sexy daze, not an inch of space between their bodies or below the belt. “Ya get in, dere’s no turnin’ back.”
Ichigo didn’t hesitate a second, “Let’s roll up outta here den’.”
Grimmjow smirked, “Cool, let’s jet.”



Kelly Park.
A deep throat territory stretches from Muriel Avenue in the west to Stoneacre Avenue in the east and Alondra Blvd to the north to Greenleaf Blvd to the south, all belonging to a solidified crew known as the Kelly Park Compton Crips. Around here, as rare as it was, two colorations represented the family, naturally blue being the first and the second being a deep green with the Kentucky Wildcats.
This neighborhood was rowdy by day, and silently lethal by early evening to early dawn. The area being slowly strolled through was labeled Kelly’s Network; dead center valley that contained the hardest and calmest ring leaders.
Ichigo knew this place. It’d been a section of town he’d always steered clear from because it was so easy to be gunned down and killed without a second thought. A gunshot was nothing but a doorbell out here. Accidentally wearing a specific color caused conflict and these men were thick as blood. If one went down, they’d all be running out to avenge. If one spotted an outsider, chances were they were escorted by another gang member, related to a soldier, or considered an enemy.
Ichigo wasn’t within the last two picks. His blood ran cold as the Avalanche cruised slow, windows tinted pitch black. Sweat pearled on his arms, sticking to the expensive leather. They couldn’t see him but he could see them. All eyes followed the sore thumb vehicle, each block containing a handful of males arrogantly sporting a shade of blue somehow or someway on their bodies.
“Scared Candy Corn?”
Ichigo jumped, having been so lost in his train of worry. “Nah, nah I ain’t scared,” his voice betrayed him. The quiver wavered at the base of his voice box.
Grimmjow heard it. He slid his gaze over, seeing Ichigo’s body turn into wayward ball, physically building a shield around himself. His pace through the neighborhood was purposeful, the five MPH being his silent announcement to the crew. All the young soldiers knew him by the three cars he drove, the speed he always took coming down this way, and the house he aimed.
Now the end of the street there stood a tall two story building, placed on the edge of a grassy corner. A wooden balcony wrapped around from both ends, with a small set of stairs going up the center. The night was too dark to distinguish color, but a lone street light bathe a corner of its side with mercury purple. It was an aged home, built in the good ole days, a faded shade of powder blue. Honey gold electricity shun through four of the six front windows. Shadows walked by momentarily blocking the light, spot lighting down the front lawn.
Several cars were parked outside along the curb and two in the driveway. At least a dozen blue shirted guys were sitting outside, some leaning against the stair railing and others sitting on the porch the rest scattered throughout the front yard. As soon as the dull roar of Grimmjow’s engine approached, all heads angled in his direction, every action ceased.
The truck pulled around the rest, parking alongside the house. Grimmjow cut the car off, “Ready?”
A sigh audibly answered him before a soft, “Yeah,” wisped his way. Ichigo’s knuckles were stalk white as he squeezed his hands over the balls of his arm rest. He knew there was a reason something dangerous radiated around Grimmjow. He should’ve known. Unfortunately, it was a little late to be asking himself what he’d just got himself into.
He was about to find out as soon as he stepped out of this car.

TBC: Next chapter is the final part of the prologue. Then we begin the real story. ^_^
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