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The Streets of Hueco Mundo	By : needlesandthread Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2209 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story I do not make money off of this fic, all rights are reserved for their respective creators. Again, I do Not own Bleach, nor do I make money off of this fic..

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Two days of interviewing and it wasn’t getting them far. Nobody Ichigo knew to talk to was giving out any useful information. It was exasperating. Renji and Rukia didn’t have much to report on their end either. Ichigo and Grimmjow decided at the end of their long day to work out in the gym at Grimmjow’s condo, since neither of them could no longer use the one all the guys from the department went to.
            Ichigo ran on the treadmill, his Ipod spurring him to finish his three mile run strong with a Five Finger Death Punch song. His feet pounded against the moving belt and he could feel sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades. Through the giant mirror that ran along both walls he coyly watched the reflection of his partner across the gym.
            It was a sight, watching Grimmjow do squats. It looked like he had at least 150 pounds on the bar. His face was stone concentration as he squatted down in perfect form, the muscles in his back, buttocks, thighs, and calves tightening deliciously beneath the basketball shorts slung along his hips. Then he’d resume starting position and do it again. He made it look so easy, and so appetizing. Ichigo thought back to the morning he’d woken up in Grimmjow’s lap.
            So much had been going on he hadn’t really had time to analyze it. Grimmjow never said anything about it, but Ichigo knew he knew that Ichigo had felt his erection. And from what Ichigo could feel, it was an impressive one at that. Ichigo’s eyes met Grimmjow’s in the mirror, and a chill ran down his spine. It was as if he knew Ichigo was thinking about him. Ichigo pushed himself harder in his last tenth of a mile, to avoid from having his own problem in his shorts.
            Grimmjow had been watching Ichigo when Ichigo wasn’t watching him. He grabbed a ten pound medicine ball after squats and sank into a mat just behind where Ichigo was running. Linking his feet together at the ankles and balancing on his butt, he proceeded to do Russian Twists, deciding on a 100 count burst. As he rotated from left to right, he watched as Ichigo completed his run.
            It was a damn shame the man didn’t know how sexy he looked, wet with sweat, face flushed, but had a glow of accomplishment about him. His ass was scrumptious, sculpted along with the rest of his lower body from years of intense running. Grimmjow wanted so badly to have him beneath him, sweating and panting, but from a different kind of work out…
            Ichigo’s phone shattered his lecherous thoughts as Ichigo slowed the machine to a walk and pulled out his headphones. Grimmjow saw the “oh shit” look that crossed across his face when he seen the caller and quickly slid his lock screen over to answer.
            “ICHIGO, MY DARLING SON!!! WHY HAVE’NT YOU CALLED YOUR LOVING FATHER IN WEEKS!!???”
            “Don’t yell into the phone, you idiot! I have called, you just weren’t there at the time!” he spat out with a scowl.
            “Your sister’s and I miss you! We are all getting together for a big delicious dinner compliments of sweet Yuzu! We are expecting you!”
            Ichigo rolled his eyes, knowing that no wasn’t an option. His eyes flitted to Grimmjow, who was standing up from the mat behind him.
            “Fine I’ll be there. I’m bringing a guest so tell Yuzu to make extra please.”
            With that, he quickly hung up before his father could start in on a barrage of questions on who it was or more wailing about how he missed him and he needed to visit home more often. He got off the treadmill and looked to Grimmjow.
            “Did you have dinner plans?”
            “Not really,” said Grimmjow, mopping his face with a towel and tossing one to Ichigo, who caught it and said with a dark grin, “Good. Because you are going to meet my family.”
            Grimmjow raised his eyebrow.
            “Why the face?” he asked cautiously.
            Ichigo’s grin widened.
            “Ha. After we hit the shower, you’ll see.”
            The Kurosaki home was located in the rather suburban area of North Hueco Mundo known as Karakura Town. It was a modern one story flat with clean landscape set on a decent sized piece of land. A few cars were parked in the drive, and Grimmjow navigated his car to the side of the road as to not block anyone in. Ichigo parked his motorcycle in the driveway, jumping off and ripping the helmet from his head, staring coolly at a black Lincoln MKS with chromed out rims that was parked next to a silver Jeep Commander.
            Grimmjow let out a low whistle, coming up to appreciate the car next to Ichigo.
            “It’s only a V-6, but that’s a pretty nice luxury ride. Your dad’s?”
            “No,” deadpanned Ichigo, motioning for Grimmjow to follow as he stiffly marched up the driveway and onto the porch, kicking off his shoes.
            Grimmjow followed suit, wondering what had gotten in Ichigo’s craw. Ichigo shot him a warning glance, jumping back just after opening the door.
            “IIIIIIIIICHIIIIGOOO!”
            A dark haired man came flying out of the door way, leg extended toward Ichigo’s head. Ichigo effectively ducked the offensive foot and dropped down into a spinning kick, catching the foot supporting the man’s weight and he fell to the ground.
            Standing up and stepping over the man, to a bewildered Grimmjow he said, “My father, Isshin.”
            “Uh, nice to meet you, sir. I’m Grimmjow, Ichigo’s squad partner.”
            The man sprung up, seizing Grimmjow’s hand and shook it furiously, proclaiming how much he’d heard about him and what an honor it was to meet him and have him over for dinner. Grimmjow looked pleading over to Ichigo, but he was busy hugging a pretty blonde girl. Grimmjow remembered she was Yuzu.
            “Get off him dad, you’re freaking the poor guy out!” snapped a black haired girl, this one must be Karin, thought Grimmjow, as she kicked him in the head.
            “I’m Karin,” she stated, frowning down at a wailing Isshin.
            “Grimmjow,” he replied, and the girl gave him a scrutinizing once over before giving him a small smile.
            “I’m Yuzu, and it’s nice to have you in our home, Mr. Jeagerjaques,” said Yuzu with a slight blush and soft voice.
            “The pleasure is mine, and something sure smells good. Can I help with anything?”
            Yuzu’s face blanched.
            “Oh no! You are the guest! Ichigo can show you to the living room while we wait for dinner to finish.”
            “Tck, and I’ll keep dad from slobbering all over you,” replied Karin, looking over at Isshin who was complaining to a large photo on the wall about how ungrateful his children were. “Besides, you have another special guest in the living room waiting.”
            Ichigo’s heart hammered against his chest as he led Grimmjow to the living room. Sure enough, there sat the person he knew the expensive luxury car belonged to. Suddenly it was hard to breathe, and the room felt way too hot. Their eyes met, and he stepped toward the man who also stood and made his way over.
            “Hiya ther’ King. Miss me?”
            Ichigo forgot everything as he pulled his brother to him in a tight embrace.
            “Shiro,” he breathed into his neck, inhaling the scent of the cologne he wore.
            Ichigo basked in the closeness for a few moments before letting him go, pulling back to survey him.
            “When did you get into town? Why didn’t you call me?”
            “I wanted ta surprise ya. I’d say it worked.”
            “You’re a real asshole, you know. I haven’t heard from you since Chad’s funeral.”
            “I’ve been busy, ya know. Don’t sully our reunion by bein’ pissy.”
            Grimmjow watched all this unfold from the doorway, his keen eyes not missing anything. He felt irrational jealously stir around in his chest, and mentally berated himself for being a fool. He hurriedly shook it off when Ichigo finally he was there and introduced him to his twin brother.
            Piercing ice met gold on sclera eyes, but both flickered over each other quickly. Assessing, calculating, sizing up. What Grimmjow would call a psychotic grin stretched across Shiro’s mouth as his strange eyes glinted with something that Grimmjow couldn’t place.
            “Nice ta meet ya’.”
            Something told Grimmjow that wasn’t true, but he responded with an even, “Likewise.”
            Before Ichigo could notice anything, Yuzu called them all to dinner.
            It seemed that Isshin had finally composed himself now that all his kids were gathered around the table. He kept a jovial conversation up, although Karin, Ichigo, nor Shiro seemed to elaborate on much that they said. But in Ichigo’s case, he couldn’t say much about work legally.
            Karin was almost graduated with her degree in sports journalism, and Yuzu in culinary arts. Grimmjow agreed she’d be very successful, if their wonderful dinner was any proof of her skills. He’d asked her if she planned on opening a restaurant someday, and she blushed but said yes. Shiro hadn’t elaborated on how “business” was going, just mentioned he was in town because of it. Grimmjow hadn’t missed the shift of his eyes slightly toward Ichigo when he told his dad he was staying at the Chateau de Ritz, Westnidge’s four star hotel.
            After desert, Isshin busted out Monopoly, much to his three quiet kid’s dismay. Even though they put up a fuss at first, they were all having fun an hour later. Grimmjow was getting a kick out of watching Isshin cheat and Ichigo and Karin calling him out on it.
            “Seriously dad, where did you get the extra $500 from! You skimmed it from the bank when no one was looking, didn’t you!” Ichigo shouted.
            “Do you hear this, Yuzu, your brother is calling me a cheater!!!”
            “I didn’t see him take it, Ichi-nii.”
            Karin rolled her eyes and kicked Isshin under the table.
            The battle raged on, Grimm grinning in amusement. He tried to ignore the fact that Shiro had been staring at him for quite some time in that slightly manic way it seemed he had. Looking down at his phone, he realized it was nearly eleven at night.
            “I hate to be a party pooper, but I really should be going,” he announced, pausing the calamity.
            After rounds of good byes, nice to meet yous, and come agains, Grimmjow walked out to his car with Ichigo.
            “Your family isn’t so bad, berry. They’re actually a lot of fun. I liked them. Thanks for having me over.”
            Ichigo grinned.
            “Well, good, because now you are practically family. Believe me; my dad will be blowing up my phone to bring you back for a good month.”
            Grimmjow chuckled, climbing in his car.
            “Ride safe, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
            “Same,” said Ichigo, jamming his hands in his jean pockets.
            He watched Grimmjow back out of the driveway and waved, jumping as he turned around to meet the smoldering gaze of his brother.
            “Yer partner’s right, maybe we should call it a night too, ay King?”
            Ichigo knew it was more than a command than a suggestion, and with a slight nod, went to say goodbye to the rest of the family.
            Thirty minutes later, Ichigo was shirtless against a wall in the executive suite of Chateau de Ritz, Shiro kissing and scratching a blazing trail down his chest.
            Shiro’s blue tongue dipped into his navel, his hands making quick work of Ichigo’s belt. Ichigo felt his jeans being roughly yanked down his tan legs, along with his underwear. He smirked. Shiro, impatient as always.
            “Fuck, it’s been too long, King,” Shiro said huskily, gripping Ichigo’s length in a pale hand.
            Ichigo’s breath hitched as his hips bucked instinctively into Shiro’s hand. The hand was replaced with Shiro’s sinful blue tongue, licking from base to tip teasingly.
            Ichigo’s hand worked its way into Shiro’s soft white spikes, earning him a whimper when he gripped hard and cruelly. He knew what Shiro wanted. The same thing he wanted every time he blew into Ichigo’s life. And for some reason Ichigo had never been able to deny his brother anything.
            He thrust himself into the awaiting heat of Shiro’s mouth, his eyes rolling backwards and mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure as Shiro repeatedly deep throated him. He looked down to meet Shiro’s eyes looking up at him as he swallowed around his length. Ichigo groaned.
            “Enough,” Ichigo commanded, yanking Shiro’s head off him with a wet pop.
            “Take your pants off and lay on the couch.”
            Shiro closed his eyes at the roughness in Ichigo’s voice and did as he was told, his erection so hard it was painful.
            Ichigo towered over him, running his hands down the abdominal muscles identical to his, over smooth, trembling pale thighs.
            “You’re leaking Shiro. Look at how wet you are for me!”
            Ichigo gripped his erection and pumped at a brutal pace, causing Shiro to scream in pleasure and arch right up off the couch. Black nails dug into the velvet fabric of the couch as Shiro begged Ichigo to stop torturing him.
            Ichigo would give him what he wanted. He knew from experience Shiro had already prepared himself thoroughly before this excursion. He snatched the bottle of lube that was waiting on the oak coffee table and slathered a generous amount on himself. Grabbing Shiro’s waist, he slid his ass to the edge of the couch, pushing his legs backwards toward his head and baring his most hidden parts.
            He entered Shiro with one quick thrust, biting into the tender flesh on Shiro’s calf as his brother’s tight heat clenched around him. Shiro screamed in pleasure, his own nails sinking into the skin of Ichigo’s hands.
            “Don’ pause, jus’ fuck me already!”
            Delirious with pleasure, Ichigo withdrew and slammed back into the willing body beneath him. He made sure to angle himself to hit Shiro’s prostate each time, his brother moaning and swearing beneath him with every hit. Sweat ran down his temple, and he knew Shiro was getting close.
            But this time, something wasn’t right. Normally, Ichigo would be on the brink of explosion, and although it felt good, the coil in Ichigo’s stomach refused to tighten and snap, despite Shiro’s screams and heat. Fuck. His hazy mind looked down at Shiro, who was drunk with pleasure. He imagined himself in Shiro’s place, being stretched and spread, slammed into roughly and driven to blinding ecstasy. Looking up and meeting piercing azure eyes, darkened with pleasure, and begging Grimmjow’s gorgeous body for more.
            Shiro had taken his own cock in hand, pumping himself as Ichigo’s eyes slid closed, imagining Grimmjow’s length inside him, and his strong hand pumping Ichigo to completion. A few last thrusts and Shiro’s whole body tightened, his long drawn out moan snapping Ichigo’s eyes back open to watch his brother cum all over his stomach. He lost it then, releasing inside Shiro’s convulsing passage with a deep groan, rocking shallowly a few times more into Shiro before growing soft.
            “Alright,” panted Shiro, pale hands on Ichigo’s heaving chest, “Git off.”
            Ichigo carefully slid out of Shiro, releasing the pale legs he knew would have bruises where his fingers gripped so harshly. Ichigo grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom, washing off and redressing. He frowned at his reflection in the mirror guiltily. Shiro was raped in sophomore year of high school, by some jock who always teased Shiro for being a fag. It forever changed Shiro, who refused to bottom for anyone.
            Except, he admitted to Ichigo, that although it had hurt and was terrifying, he liked it. He wanted to feel it again. But he couldn’t trust anyone, anyone except Ichigo. And somehow this crazy relationship developed between them. Shiro had boyfriends, which he fucked and discarded quite often and coldly. But every once and a while, he’d slide into Ichigo’s bed after everyone was asleep and ask Ichigo to take him. And Ichigo couldn’t say no, even though they both knew it was fucked up and wrong.
            They cheated on their respective boyfriends with each other, although it was Shiro more than Ichigo, who only had one serious relationship throughout his training at the academy. After that ended badly, the only sex he had was with his brother, who went to college for business. And when he became successful, Shiro’s visits got few and far between, but when they did happen, they were animalistic and full of passion.
            And Ichigo hated it, but didn’t know what to do about it. He loved his brother and probably in more of a way than he should. Especially after losing Chad. But now he just fucked his brother while thinking about another man, as if life needed to be more complicated right now. Sighing, he went to say goodbye.
            Shiro was redressed and running a hand through his hair, standing in front of the large glass window that over looked the city. Ichigo stood next to him.
            “Ya inta tha’ big lug, ain’t ya, Ichi?”
            “What?” asked Ichigo incredulously, his brown eyes meeting the knowing onyx of his twin.
            “Ya like him. I can tell.”
            “How?” Ichigo demanded.
            Shiro donned his psychotic grin.
            “Cuz usually ya scream my name when ya cum. You didn’t. You’re a bit different after bein’ round him.”
            Ichigo just stared at Shiro, lost for words.
            Shiro laughed.
            “You should see yer face! God, you look like a bitch tha’ got caught cheatin’!” he cackled.
            “Whatever, Shiro. I got a lot of stuff to do tomorrow so I’m leaving.”
            “Hey, wait,” Shiro said, grabbing his wrist. Ichigo stopped.
            “I don’ own ya, King. Believe it or not, I wan’ ya ta be happy.”
            “I wish the same for you, every day, Shi,” Ichigo replied. He kissed his brother’s cheek and ruffled his hair, and left him standing there in his luxury suite.
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The Streets of Hueco Mundo