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Thriller	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 2972 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
CHAPTER 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
Beginning with a shock
The end can be a riddle
Is the best life and love
Lived in the middle?
-The Streets-
XOXOXO
Ichigo stood in the shower, staring blankly at the wall as scalding hot water pelted him from above. His skin was red and felt raw, but he refused to move, his hand desperately clutching the shampoo bottle as wave after wave of fear and uncertainty washed over him like a tsunami.
He was fucking terrified to go to work.
Not only that, but before leaving his job that morning, he'd taken the trash out to the large, green dumpster behind the store and found two dead bodies, one quite obviously missing its head. He'd been violently ill, dropping the trash bags as he heaved up what felt like all of his internal organs. He also knew without a doubt that those bodies had been created by his recent visitor.
Fuck, just the thought of the blue-haired mass of insanity had him gagging, his stomach churning with apprehension.
He'd had no choice but to call the police and pretend to not know the man that had been kissing him. The man he'd been fervently kissing back. Ichigo was thankful that the store's cameras were the freeze-frame kind, making his and Grimmjow's kiss seem forced as if he had been trying to push the other man away. He went along with it, not daring to object or make himself seem suspicious, but he was all kinds of nervous and felt guilty as hell.
He had been kissing a murderer!
A gorgeous murderer, but a fucking murderer all the same.
Ichigo dropped the shampoo bottle and pressed his forehead against the wall of the shower, sighing deeply. He couldn't call out because he needed the money. Oh, but he'd wanted to take his boss up on the offer to stay home after such an intense experience. Badly. Then, he'd seen Karin and changed his mind. His sister deserved her surgery and he wasn't going to be a selfish asshole.
He shut off the water and picked up the bottle of shampoo. His mind was frazzled and probably resembled a ball of lint at the moment, so he stepped out of the shower with the promise to wash his hair later. Washing his body had been his first priority and after that, thoughts of the blue-haired lunatic had consumed him, shooting his concentration to hell.
Ichigo wrapped a towel around his waist and plodded out of the bathroom to his bedroom. He passed his sister, Yuzu, in the hallway and gave her a small smile, making her grin back and head down the stairs silently. He had just shut the door to his room when it was slammed open, making him jump and scream like a man being slain.
His father stood in the doorway grinning like the potential mental patient he was, "ICHIGO, MY SONNNNN! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR WORK!" he shouted at the top of his lungs and sprang towards him.
Ichigo snarled and stepped out of the way of the overenthusiastic hug, chopping his old man in the back of the neck as he did so. "You fucking idiot!" he shrieked, blood boiling and heart sitting on his tongue, "What the fucking hell is wrong with you? Knock first! And don't dammit scare me like that, BAKA YAROU!"
Isshin crashed to the floor and rolled onto his back to stare up at him, "Ichigo, my son, Papa only wanted to remind you of the time-"
Ichigo cut the man off and turned his back to him as he headed to his closet for his work uniform, "Get out," he grumbled, waving a hand absently.
Isshin whimpered like a kicked puppy and climbed to his feet. Ichigo heard the man slowly make his way to the door and pause. "Ichi-"
"I said OUT!" he reiterated.
After that, the door swung shut and Ichigo let his shoulders sag in relief. He had been scared shitless, thinking that Grimmjow had somehow managed to get inside his home to attack him. Ichigo massaged his temples and took a few deep breaths before finally reaching for his clothes. He unfolded his pants, took his shirt off the hanger and went to his dresser for underwear. As he reached for the drawer handle, he noticed his hands were shaking uncontrollably and he let loose a small, almost hysterical, laugh.
He really didn't want to go to work and have to face the chance of Grimmjow coming back. Even though the police were going to be doing surveillance, he was still petrified. Grimmjow wasn't a normal human being. Ichigo was pretty sure mere guns wouldn't work on the man. Not if the ones he'd found in the dumpster with those dead bodies were any indication. The insane blue-haired man had a means to do whatever the fuck he wanted and if he wanted Ichigo, no police and their toys were going to stand in his way.
Which was why he was dreading going to work.
He mechanically slipped into his clothing, movements jerky and stilted. He took a deep breath, grabbed his wallet from his desk and headed out of his bedroom after shutting off the light. Although he was ten steps beyond afraid, he wouldn't let it keep him from helping his little sister.
XOXOXO
Grimmjow stood from the couch and reached his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his long limbs.
It was time to go watch his strawberry.
Shinji eyed him and shook his head as he changed the channel, "Ya better be careful! They caught yer dumbass on camera last night and they're pinnin' those bodies on ya too!" he snapped angrily.
Grimmjow cringed. He had been chewed out that morning after "dinner" when Shinji had been watching the news. His blond friend had seen the breaking news report of two dead bodies being found behind a local convenience store and the clerk of said convenience store being accosted by an unknown man. Shinji, recognizing Ichigo from the video, had lit into him and forbade him to go back, but Grimmjow had protested vehemently. He wasn't about to let a few punk, pussy ass cops keep him from his prize.
Fuck no.
Shinji had eventually relented, but never let him forget his "stupid mistake". Grimmjow had promised as a precaution that he would wear a hat over his bright blue hair, making Shinji suck his teeth and roll his eyes. Shiro had cackled endlessly, but Grimmjow was still pissed at him for his earlier stunt. Corky hadn't commented, but an infinitesimal frown had appeared between his brows at the news. That alone had made him feel even worse because Corky rarely showed his true emotions.
"Don't be dumb, Grimmjow. We need ta keep a low profile and with ya goin' aroun' killin' people, it makes it kinda hard ta do that," Shinji continued.
"Ok, ok," he grunted sullenly as he headed for the front door and a large, green hoodie he'd placed on the coat rack.
Suddenly, Shiro bolted up from the couch, clutching his stomach and grimacing, "Fuckin' hell, my stomach!" he yelped and rushed towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.
Grimmjow grinned widely. That's what the asshole got; karma in its truest form. He slipped the hoodie over his head, withdrawing a black skully from its pocket, fitting it onto his head and concealing his hair. He made sure the house key was on its purple string around his neck before he dipped out the front door and started down the driveway.
His hoodie, dark-blue jeans and black sneakers made for good camouflage wear. Add a pair of black, leather gloves for his hands and he was prepared for a night of hunting. Grimmjow began humming his favorite song as he briskly walked into town and towards Ichigo's job. He hoped the boy would be there because he really didn't like going to his house. He couldn't see him there, since his room was on the second floor. It burned him up when he couldn't see his strawberry.
Grimmjow sucked his teeth in annoyance at the thought of what Shiro had done that morning. Grimmjow had honestly thought that Ichigo had made his way into his bed by some miracle. He wanted to feel the boys lips under his own again, wanted to feel that lean body writhing underneath him as he made Ichigo beg for more. Then he wanted to squeeze the life out of him and turn those molten brown eyes into nothing but vacant space.
He licked his lips and frowned at the twinge in his chest at that last thought. Brushing the disturbing sensation he away, he picked up his pace as the blocks became more and more familiar the closer he got to Ichigo's job. About a block from the store, Grimmjow spotted a police cruiser parked across the street from the establishment. Pausing and scowling deeply, he blew out a frustrated breath. He had a mind to walk up to the unsuspecting officer seated inside the car and snap his neck before he even knew what hit him, but remembered Shinji's demand to keep a low profile.
Shit.
Now what?
He knew there would be police around the establishment, thanks to Shinji's words of insight, but he hadn't expected the bastards to be parked right outside, making it virtually impossible for him to get close to his strawberry.
So unfair.
Grimmjow stepped beside a large tree and resigned himself to watching his treat from a distance.
XOXOXO
Ichigo would be forever grateful to his best friend for randomly showing up at his house, right as he was leaving for work. Always bouncy and filled with more energy than was necessary, Neliel Tu Odershvank, also known as Nel, didn't mind taking him to work (since his car had died a pitiful death a couple of weeks back) and keeping him company once he got there.
He was behind the counter at the convenience store relaying the previous night's (or rather early morning's) events to her. Nel's wheat and gray colored gaze bore into his brown one, wide with disbelief. He hadn't told her about the occurrence at Hueco Mundo, so he'd ended up explaining everything to her all at once. Nel leaned against the counter, her black, v-neck shirt revealing a ridiculous amount of cleavage as it clung to her curvy form. A dark purple, three quarter sleeved jacket also hugged her voluptuous form and matching purple skinny jeans looked as if she'd been poured into them. Black Ugg boots completed her outfit.
His best friend was undeniably hot and if he swung that way, they certainly wouldn't be JUST best friends.
"O-M-G, Ichigo," Nel gasped, her pouty lips hanging open. "I can't believe you're just telling me this!" she continued, tossing her long, sea-green hair over her shoulder.
"I didn't really have a choice, Nel. My old boss told me not to say anything about it, so please pretend that you know how to keep a secret," he muttered, running his hand over the smooth counter to distract himself from conjuring images of Grimmjow.
Nel didn't help.
"What's he look like? I want details!" she chirped.
Ichigo rolled his eyes and gave Nel a half-hearted glare. It rolled right off of her like oil on pig skin as she stared back at him with her huge, sultry eyes. He sighed exasperatedly and leaned on the counter, "He's really tall. Probably 6'3". He's got a lot of muscle, but not the gross, body-building kind-"
"Thank kami," Nel interrupted, placing a hand against her ample chest dramatically.
Ichigo laughed, but continued, "He's got these piercing blue eyes and bright blue hair. It's kinda hard to explain the style he keeps it in because it looks unkempt, but at the same time like he keeps it that way purposely, ya know?" Nel nodded, but urged him to go on. "Um, he has a really deep voice. Well, not as deep as your dad's, but deep all the same. And it's got a rough edge to it."
Nel swooned and batted her eyes, "Why are all the good ones gay or taken?" she mourned.
Ichigo rolled his eyes at her, "Have you forgotten that he's completely nuts?"
She giggled and shook her head, "That just makes him unpredictable," she scoffed with a wave of an elegant hand, the nails immaculately manicured.
Ichigo curled his upper lip in equal measures of disbelief and confusion, "Nel, he's a murderer," he deadpanned, hoping it would help his best friend see the error of Grimmjow's ways.
"Hmm, you've got a point there. It's just so hard to find a guy that's hot as hell and can kiss like no one's business. It'd be a shame to just let him go to waste," she mumbled, placing a finger against her bottom lip.
"You're retarded, woman."
Nel giggled again and twirled in place, "So they say," she sang cheerfully.
Ichigo heard the automatic doors to the store slide open and glanced up faster than he'd intended. A dark-skinned man of average height, with long, black hair strode into the store. He was wearing a long, white coat that had a high collar, a white, form-fitting shirt underneath, black jeans and black, combat boots that reached his calves. Dark shades hid his eyes from the public and his face was an expressionless mask. Nel gasped and hummed in approval at the sight of the man, but something about the guy made Ichigo shift in discomfort. His aura was incredibly intimidating and Ichigo was learning to trust his instincts.
The man went directly to the refrigerated section and retrieved a bottle of water, then headed to the counter. Ichigo didn't let his eyes rest on the man's face long, but he gave himself time enough to memorize the stoic features. The man paid for his water and left the store peacefully, Nel eyeing him lustfully the whole while.
"Wow," she breathed once the man had gone beyond the sliding doors.
XxxxxxxxxX
Ichigo picked up a magazine from behind the counter and was flipping through the pages, trying to find something interesting, when Nel yawned loudly, "Moh, Ichigo, it's 7:00. Isn't it time for you to leave now?" she asked, her voice tired.
He glanced at the clock, not having realized how quickly the time had passed. He confirmed Nel's statement and slapped the magazine shut, tossing it under the counter. He would leave the garbage for the next shift. Ichigo grabbed his jacket, threw it on and waited impatiently for his relief to arrive. Ten minutes later, an orange-haired girl named Inoue glided through the sliding doors, apologizing profusely for being late.
"I'm so sorry, Kurosaki-kun! My car had a flat tire," she breathlessly stated.
Ichigo held up a hand and waved it casually, "No problem, Inoue. See you tomorrow."
"Yes, see you!" she called cheerfully.
Ichigo followed Nel out of the store and waved as she headed in the opposite direction to her car, "Later, Nel. Thanks for staying."
Nel yawned again and scowled, "Don't you want a ride?" she asked quizzically, turning to face him.
Ichigo shook his head and glanced up at the pale blue sky, "Nah, I'll walk. It's daylight, so I don't think I have anything to worry about."
Nel nodded and shoved off, waving over her shoulder, "Ok, then. Later, Itsyugo," she called through another huge yawn.
Ichigo scoffed at the old nickname, but headed off towards home. He was glad that nothing had happened that night and even more glad that the night was over. He was tired and just wanted to fall face-first into his bed. Ichigo pulled his jacket tighter to his neck, blocking the sudden gust of wind that assaulted his unprotected neck and face as he quickened his pace. He walked three blocks down, then turned the corner and passed a black and white, industrial van, not paying it any mind until the noise of the doors sliding open, broke the silence of the street. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder and noticed the man from earlier – the man with the white coat and dark shades – emerging from the van and heading in his direction.
Chills swept his spine and goosebumps covered his entire body in .03 seconds. His instincts were in an uproar and commanding him to run. So, he did. He broke into a dead sprint, kicking his heels and pumping his arms furiously, his heart skipping several beats when he heard rapid footsteps behind him.
Fuuuck.
He had to have the worst luck known to man.
Ichigo began panting, panicking when the footsteps behind him sped up and his involuntarily slowed. Shit. He was out of shape and had a mean ass stitch stabbing his side ruthlessly. He was so going to get caught.
What the fuck had he done now? He hadn't told anyone - except Nel - about the Hueco Mundo incident and she'd been there when this guy had entered the store earlier. It couldn't have been that. So...what?
Ichigo tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbled slightly. He caught himself before he fell, but the pause was long enough for his pursuant to catch him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him to a halt. The last thing Ichigo saw was the white van skidding to a stop beside them, the back door still thrown open and...his old co-worker at the wheel. The blonde woman he'd worked with in Las Noches: Halibel. He opened his mouth to drop a scathing remark, but a forceful blow to the back of his head rendered him unconscious.
XxxxxxxxX
When Ichigo next came to, he was strapped to a gurney, naked as the day he was born with what looked like EKG leads hanging from every part of his body. His eyes widened and he began struggling to get free, but his body was uncharacteristically sluggish. Suddenly, a blinding white light halted his movements and made him squint and blink away the black spots dancing before his eyes. The room smelled like a hospital and was kind of cold, making him shake and his teeth chatter. What he could see of the room was a high, gray ceiling and gray walls. His ankles and arms were strapped down individually with thick, leather shackles but the rest of his body (including his head) was held down and crossed over by large strips of leather that seemed to wrap around the whole gurney.
A strange, unfamiliar voice floated towards him from the right. He couldn't turn his head, so he had no idea who the fuck was speaking. That situation was solved when the bright light was whipped away and an odd-looking man was hovering over him, wearing a cordial grin. The man had short, blue hair that covered his right eye and only reached his chin. He had mustard-colored eyes and a lean body. His shoulders were sharp and angular, looking very much like shoulder pads and his grin was wide and deceptively charming. He was wearing a long white, lab coat that was buttoned to the neck.
"Hello, Kurosaki-san," he crooned.
Ichigo scowled and glared at the man, "Who the fuck are you?" he growled. "And where the fuck am I?"
"Well, to answer your first question, I am Mayuri Kurotsuchi, but you may call me Mayuri," the man answered, leaning over him and adjusting one of the leads on his chest. "I cannot answer the other question, but I can tell you why you're here."
Ichigo snarled and curled his hands into fists, anger eating him from the inside out, "Fuck you!" he snapped.
"Arara, that's not very nice, Ichigo-san," a new, more familiar voice chimed in.
The lilting tenor made his fucking skin crawl and his stomach heave. Movement to his left caused his eyes to shoot in that direction and as his fears were confirmed, he felt the blood drain from his face and his heart stop. Pink hair and honey-colored eyes behind rectangular-framed glasses, stapled the alarming presence of Dr. Szayel Aporro Grantz.
"Wh-wha?" Ichigo breathed.
Dr. Grantz grinned and stepped into focus, "Now, Ichigo-san, you should be proud to be in your present position," he stated.
Ichigo wrinkled his nose in anger and confusion. How the fuck was he supposed to feel anything other than absolute disgust towards his current situation? Why the fuck was he in this place and while he was on the subject, where the fuck was this place anyway?
"I can see you're confused, no?" Dr. Grantz continued. "Well, let me start by saying that you've been chosen to be a crucial part of something much bigger than yourself. Bigger than any of us, really."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ichigo asked incredulously.
"Tch. Ichigo-san, imagine if you will, the perfect being, able to run faster, jump higher, fight better and excel at everything they lay their hands upon. A model warrior. Do you get what I'm saying? You will be our first, true subject," Dr. Grantz explained, his voice filled with wonder and a bit of impatience.
Ichigo felt his eyes widen at the implications. He was supposed to be the guinea pig for this little project? He suddenly realized that his thoughts of Dr. Grantz staring at him as if he wanted to perform experiments on him, had been totally fucking justified. He began trying to struggle again, realizing with dread that it was hopeless. His body felt lethargic and he knew that he'd been drugged to keep him immobile.
Dr. Grantz moved out of his line of sight and Ichigo could hear the clacking of computer keys as something was rapidly typed. The man that had introduced himself as Mayuri, stepped into his peripheral vision carrying a needle that had to be at least three inches long, not including the barrel containing a mysterious amber-colored liquid. Ichigo panicked and shamefully realized that hot tears were sliding down the sides of his face.
He felt so helpless.
"Hold still, Kurosaki-san. This may hurt a bit," Mayuri announced before Ichigo felt a pinch in his side, right under his rib.
A slow burn erupted in his side and spread through his bloodstream like wildfire. Ichigo's mouth fell open as a scream was torn from his chest. His body convulsed and suddenly, the places where the leads were attached began stinging in sharp intervals, like small bee stings. His bones felt like they were being reshaped or something, causing them to ache unbearably. His hands clenched and unclenched, desperate scream after scream being wrenched from his prone form and echoing loudly throughout the sterile room.
Christ, the fucking pain.
XOXOXO
Grimmjow was pissed.
No, he was so far beyond pissed, it should be illegal.
The night had been a trying one for him and he needed a way to release his fury. First, he'd spied his strawberry walking into work with some green-haired bimbo that had stayed and flirted with his treat during Ichigo's entire shift. What the fuck was that berry head thinking? Grimmjow had had a mind to follow the intruding bitch when they were leaving, but had changed his mind at the last second.
Thankfully.
He also remembered being swarmed with outrage at the sight of that asshole Tousen walking into the berry's work place. Fortunately, the son of a bitch hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, so Grimmjow had allowed him to carry on about his business. The dark-haired bastard worked for that pink-haired director and had been part of the crew that had apprehended him, Shinji, Corky and Shiro. The fucker had it coming, but not at that moment. After that, Ichigo's shift had been rather uneventful (excluding the bimbo) and Grimmjow had been looking forward to following the strawberry home once he'd realized he wouldn't be riding with the green-haired woman.
He'd been trailing a few meters behind Ichigo, when he'd been stopped in his tracks at the sight of the van he'd been tossed into before being taken and prodded and poked like a lab rat. He'd recognized the vehicle's license plate, as well as the bitch behind the wheel. Luckily, he'd had his hat and hood pulled over his head, hiding his hair, so he was able to step behind a tree and watch helplessly as Tousen jumped out of the van and chased his strawberry down. Halibel had peeled away from the curb to head Ichigo off and Grimmjow had followed at a relative distance, fuming on the inside, muttering obscene curses under his breath.
He would have interfered had the people chasing Ichigo been different. There was something that both were given as employees of Director Psychopath that fucked with Grimmjow's abilities. It was a small machine that looked like a car alarm keypad. Whatever it was, it disabled him and made him vulnerable, leaving him wide open for attack from the dark-skinned bastard; and Tousen was no fucking pushover.
The next thing he remembered was Tousen knocking Ichigo unconscious and stuffing him into the back of the white van that had managed to catch up to them. Halibel skidded away with a loud squeal of burning rubber and the van disappeared down the street. Grimmjow didn't know why they wanted his strawberry, but he wasn't about to sit back while those assholes ruined him and probably hurt him.
That was his fucking job.
There was only one place that they would take Ichigo and that was Director Psychopath's base of operations: Hueco Mundo. Although the building had closed down because of the mass escape, the pink-haired asshole had a lab that no one but him and his cronies knew about. It was located in the underbelly of Las Noches. Grimmjow only knew about it because he'd been the reason that the pink-haired director had required a new testing staff. He'd been sure to escape after killing every last person that had poked at him, stuck him with numerous needles and performed painful experiments on him.
Shit, he still had nightmares about it.
Then, another asshole on his to-do list, Mayuri, had approached him with that stupid ability disruptor and rendered him helpless. He would get his hands on that blue-haired motherfucker, even if he had to die doing it. Then again...he really wanted to turn Director Psychopath into a mere smear on the ground. That was his real wish. He would give his left nut to get his hands on that guy.
Grimmjow set off at a dead run towards the house he shared with his friends. He knew he needed help with this situation, but he wasn't sure he would get it.
XxxxxxxxxX
"No fuckin' way!"
Grimmjow snarled silently as his hands curled into fists at his sides, "Shinji..."
"Grimmjow, that ain't keeping a low profile! Yer tellin' me ya wanna go back ta the place we jus' escaped from? Ya cra-" Shinji's mouth snapped shut, but the fire in his eyes remained bright.
Grimmjow narrowed his eyes dangerously. He knew what his friend had been about to say and it made the hair on his neck and arms stand on end. He fucking hated that word. At least Shinji had had the decency to stop before he'd said the whole thing. Grimmjow didn't think he would be able to forgive him if he hadn't.
"It is foolish," Corky deadpanned.
Grimmjow's scowl deepened as he lowered his head. They were in the living room, the TV having long since been muted with Grimmjow standing in front of it. Shinji and Shiro were seated on the couch, while Corky was seated on the love seat. It appeared as if he was going to be on his own.
Ichigo was HIS, dammit!
He snarled again and started towards the front door, "Fine! Fuck all a'ya. Jus' remember while yer sittin' here all free an' pretty an' shit, we wouldn' even be here if it wasn' fer 'that orange-haired kid'," he snapped over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob.
"Six! Wait! Ne, Shin-chan, ya know he's right. Plus, it ain't right what they do ta people in that place," Shiro pointed out as he rose from the couch.
Grimmjow grinned and turned back to face his friend, "So ya wit' me on this one?" he asked the albino, willing to forgive the idiot's past transgression.
Shiro smirked and straightened his favorite black and white, plaid, flannel scarf. His form-fitting, long-sleeved, black shirt, black jeans and black boots were perfect for the occasion. "A'course! 'Sides, I ain't lettin' up a chance ta get at that pink-haired piece a'shit," he answered as he cracked his knuckles.
Shiro approached him and pulled the door open, but before they could exit, Corky had a hand on Grimmjow's arm. The shorter man was pulling the hood of a gray hoodie over his head and slipping his feet into a pair of black, high-top sneakers. He was already wearing a pair of gray sweats. "I'm coming as well. Shirosaki has made a good point," he stated with finality and Grimmjow felt a surge of joy rush through his system.
One glance over his shoulder had Shinji sighing loudly as he rose from the couch and made his way to the door. The blond had on a pair of dark-blue jeans, a white, long-sleeved v-neck tee and a pair of white, high-top sneakers. He snatched a red hoodie from the coat rack and shoved Grimmjow out the door, "I should kick yer ass fer this, ya know," he muttered.
Grimmjow was beside himself with sheer rapture. His friends were helping him retrieve his strawberry and on top of all that, he had a chance to kill that pink-haired shit and his cronies.
The morning was full of possibilities.
- 4
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- 6
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