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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
- 8
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- 10
“Awwww, Grimmy! Can’ choo stay longer, please?” begged Nel.
            “Can’t baby girl, I have to go with Ichigo somewhere tonight, but we’ll come back to see you sometime next week, I promise.”
            “You and Ichi?”
            Grimmjow nodded and watched as Nel thought that over. She smiled.
            “Ok! I want to play salon next week!”
            “It’s a date,” said Grimmjow, scooping her up into a bear hug. She kissed his cheek and was off running back upstairs to play the minute her feet hit the ground.
            Mrs. Driedrin met him at the door as Fredrick pulled his car around.
            “Nel has a ballet recital next week. You and Ichigo are more than welcome to come if you’d like.”
            “I wouldn’t miss that for the world, thanks for the invitation.”
            “Anytime,” she replied with a soft smile, watching as Grimmjow went and climbed in his car. He’d let her know that his job had taken a more dangerous turn, so he wouldn’t be around as often. She hoped for Nel’s sake he stayed safe.
            Grimmjow stood in his closet, frowning. What the fuck was he suppose to wear to a club? He wasn’t a club type of guy. Dancing wasn’t his thing. But according to the albino Kurosaki twin there was an explicit dress code at Alibi and there would be no exception made for him. That fuckin’ pale bastard. I swear I’d like to wring his neck with one of his overpriced silk ties…
            He’d taken cue from Ichigo and bought a pair of low rise jeans in a dark wash that were a size tighter than he’d normally wear. They were a relaxed slim leg. He just couldn’t do those super skinny jeans that hugged Ichigo’s lower half like a second skin. He flipped through his shirts and chose a fitted deep v neck t-shirt in a shade of blue slightly darker than his hair. White belt, all white sneakers with blue laces. Hopefully this counted as sexy, because he was not wearing anything leather, as Shiro had so kindly suggested.
            He’d just finished dressing when the buzzer rang. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and unlocked the door for the orange head he saw on the monitor.
            “I didn’t have time to look in the mirror, does this work?” asked Grimmjow when he threw open the door.
            Ichigo regarded him slowly, a little more slowly than he meant to. Grimmjow looked mouthwatering; the low rise jeans slung just below his hip and the v of his hips was visible when the shirt that clung to him rode up. The shirt was an excellent choice; the neckline made visible his highly defined pectorals and added depth to the color of his hair and eyes. Ichigo hadn’t really realized how sexy Grimmjow’s neck was before, and now he had the brief urge to bite down on the collar bones playing peek a boo from behind the fabric.
            “You look really good,” Ichigo managed, trying not to blush as Grimmjow smirked at him.
            “Not too shabby yerself,” admitted Grimmjow to him. “Are you wearing make-up?”
            “Yes, and I have some to put on you too,” smirked Ichigo, waving the plastic bag in his hand.
            “I don’t know about all that,” Grimmjow said with a frown.
            “I know what I’m doing, sit your ass at the table so we can get this over with and go.”
            Grimmjow complied. At least he got to gawk at Ichigo up close while he laid out his supplies. The black that lined his eyes was a fucking turn on. Somehow it made those chocolate orbs smolder. He wore a black fitted tank top with a red 15 just above his right pectoral. A red belt held up the impossibly tight super skinny black jeans. Ichigo had slashed them with a razor all over, even in the ass; Grimmjow noted when Ichigo bent over to pick up something that fell off the table. And by the looks of the tan, tight flesh peeking out from the rips, Ichigo was going commando. That thought went straight to his dick and Grimmjow tried desperately to think of anything else. These weren’t the type of pants you wanted to get a boner in.
            “Alright, close your eyes,” Ichigo said, pouring some pale liquid on his index finger.
            Grimmjow did as he was told, thinking about baseball and changing the oil in the Mustang to distract him from Ichigo’s feather like touches and breath that tickled his cheek. Ichigo had him open his eyes after what seemed like forever and look upward. Grimmjow did his best not to blink as Ichigo instructed him not to.
            “Done,” said Ichigo, and stood back to admire his handiwork. Fuck me, he’s gorgeous…
            Grimmjow looked in the small compact mirror that was on the table to see what Kurosaki had done to him. Ichigo rimmed his eyes with black liquid liner, and used a teal eye shadow to highlight the corners of his eyes, giving him a cat’s eye effect. He was surprised to find that he actually liked how it looked.
            “Good job man. Lemme guess, another perk of having sisters?”
            “Yeah,” smirked Ichigo, cleaning up his supplies.
            “Oh, Nel is just going to love you.”
            Ichigo laughed.
            “You still got that scotch? I have to pregame or this will get to me.”
            “You nervous?” asked Grimmjow, getting up and going over to his mini bar.
            “A little. It’s been quite a while since I’ve tried to seduce someone. Make that a double, please.”
            Grimmjow arched his eyebrow. Shit, if he only knew how utterly fuckable he is…
            He handed the glass to Ichigo, who downed it quickly, wincing as it burned down to his stomach. Ichigo rinsed the glass and put it in the dishwasher.
            “Ready to go?”
            “Let’s do this,” answered Grimmjow.
            Alibi had a line that wrapped around the corner. Fortunately for them, Shiro had given them VIP passes. They strolled up to the velvet ropes where a man with long dark hair in a pony tail and a flowered shirt stood.
            “Hey Shunsui,” Ichigo said, flashing his card and his fake id. All of Shiro’s employees were in on the fact Ichigo and Grimmjow were undercover.
            “Hey, kid!” he said with a big smile. “Looking good! Have fun in there,” he said with a wink, letting them pass. He threw a lecherous smile at Grimmjow, who nodded his way politely but without interest. Older men weren’t his thing.
            The bass ricocheted off their chests upon entering. The dance floor was crowded with people in all kinds of colorful attire- if you call it that. Grimmjow saw a guy wearing ass-less chaps. He just shook his head. They made their way to the bar, Grimmjow sitting a few seats down from Ichigo so as to not make it look like they were there together. He flagged the bartender, his eyes gleaming with appreciation as the man turned around. Tall and lean with dark hair, a blue stripe and the number 69 were tattooed on his face. Sexy.
            “Nice tattoo, man. Brave soul ta get something like that on yer face,” he shouted over the music.
            The man smirked in response, giving Grimmjow a look of appraisal. “What’s your poison, babe?”
            “I’d take some of that 69 you are advertising, but you look kinda busy, so I’ll settle for a Jack and Coke.”
            The bartender, who’s name tag read Shuhei, quickly made his drink and slid it to him. He leaned across the bar toward Grimmjow’s ear.
            “There you go, gorgeous. That one’s on me.”
            Grimmjow smirked and took a swig as Shuhei hustled off to the next patron, casting a sideways glance over to Ichigo, who was pounding back a blue colored shot. Man, he’s gonna be a fucking wreck when we leave here, he thought to himself, remembering the night they drank at his house.
            It didn’t take long for the alcohol to take effect on Ichigo. Within twenty minutes, he started feeling the effects of the three shots he’d consumed. The music was pounding through his body, and he had the overwhelming urge to get out on the dance floor. He could feel that lovely alcohol induced buoyancy and he wanted to ride that out. And when Michael Jackson’s Thriller came on, he couldn’t stop himself from moving out on the floor.
            Grimmjow watched his partner make his way to the near center of the floor, mingling in with the masses of people. Hips swaying with the music and hands clapping to the beat, Ichigo really started to get into the song. Grimmjow could see his lips moving as Ichigo spoke with some of the people out on the dance floor, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. But once Ichigo started dancing and a few people joined him, he realized what they were doing.
            Leave it to Ichigo to bust out the Thriller dance. He and a couple other dudes who looked quite effeminate were dancing the dance to the T as Michael did in the video. Grimmjow would have laughed if it wasn’t so fascinating to watch Ichigo move. His footwork was effortless and quick, the limbs of his body full of grace as he popped, twirled and dipped. And he looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. And Grimmjow was enjoying watching that firm ass shake.
            Ichigo wasn’t done. The dj transitioned into a sexy dance song, XX3 by Blood on the Dance Floor. He just grabbed some random dude and started grinding his ass into the guy’s crotch. And the guy had no objections, his hands sliding to Ichigo’s hips and grinding back. They were working up a sweat, practically fucking right there on the dance floor. Grimmjow felt sort of bad for the guy when the song ended and Ichigo left him most likely with the most painful boner he ever experienced. Grimmjow knew what that was like, even though he wished it was him Ichigo was using like a stripper pole.
            Grimmjow downed his second drink a little bitterly and watched Ichigo drink some ice water a little ways down the bar. A dude in a suit suddenly approached Ichigo, speaking into his ear and pointing upward to the second floor. That’s where the VIP lounges were located. Ichigo looked up and Grimmjow followed his gaze, to see Ginjo smirking confidently down at Ichigo. Ichigo returned the smile with one of interest and said something to the man in the suit. They headed for the stairs.
            That was Grimmjow’s cue. He made a direct line for the service elevator, taking it up to Shiro’s office with a special card issued to him by Halibel earlier in the week. The door slid open to admit him.
            “Heya, blue. Ready ta’ watch King work is’ magic?” asked Shiro with an evil grin.
            Grimmjow refused to answer, sitting in one of the chairs in front of Shiro’s desk. Shiro switched his screen to view the room where Ichigo and Ginjo were. He leaned back to watch the soundless picture.
            Ichigo at on the plush black couch and ordered a Superman shot from the pretty pigtailed waitress wearing pink eye contacts. Her name was Loly and Ichigo knew she worked security too. Shiro said she had anger management issues but was fully trustworthy. He tipped her well and she grinned, sashaying off in her tight black shorts that had the word Alibi written in pink cursive across her butt.
            Ginjo watched her leave.
            “She’d be a nice piece of ass if I was into girls.”
            Ichigo grinned.
            “Yes, she’s pretty, but I happen to be attracted to men only. They can withstand more…roughness,” he said, taking his shot and downing it, not missing the lecherous smirk that stretched across Ginjo’s face.
            “I’m Ginjo, what’s your name, sexy?” he asked, snaking his arm around the back of the couch behind Ichigo’s shoulders.
            Smiling shyly and looking up from under his lashes, Ichigo gave the fake name on his id. “I’m Izo. I take it you saw something you liked, is that why you invited me here?”
            “A smart guy, that makes you even sexier,” Ginjo purred, impressed with Ichigo’s observation.
            “I do what I can,” replied Ichigo, shrugging it off but grinning at Ginjo.
            “So, Izo, you a smoker?” asked Ginjo, reaching in his jacket pocket and pulling out a rolled joint.
            “No, not really, sorry. I’m slightly asthmatic, so I don’t really partake.”
            He produced a lighter and sparked up, sucking in deeply, holding it in and then exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling.
            “You sure a little bit won’t kill you? It’s the best shit on the market. It’ll make you feel good.”
            “I’m straight,” Ichigo replied with a smile, watching him take another hit. “You know, that isn’t the only thing that can make you feel good.” He smiled sexily.
            Ginjo cocked a brow.
            “Really…what did you have in mind?”
            Ichigo threw caution into the wind and straddled Ginjo’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind, leaning back to watch as Ichigo started moving to the beat of the music that pounded downstairs. He closed his eyes after inhaling another hit of his joint, feeling Ichigo grind their pelvises together. Ichigo worked his hips forward and back, side to side, working the man beneath him up to half mast.
            “Damn Izo, you are good at this,” Ginjo groaned, a hand trailing back to grab and squeeze one of Ichigo’s ass cheeks. Ichigo playfully slapped the hand away, sliding out of Ginjo’s lap to dance between his legs and give him a good up close view of his ass. The man put out his joint in a glass ashtray next to him on the couch and enjoyed his private show.
            Loly came in and quirked an eyebrow.
            “You have a guest requesting to see you, Mr. Ginjo. He’s waiting outside. His name is Yukio. Shall I admit him?”
            “Please, if you would, darling,” Ginjo replied, pulling Ichigo into his lap.
            Loly let in a young looking blond whose hair fell over one of his green eyes. Ichigo immediately recognized him from the video they watched in Shiro’s office. He seemed very un-phased by Ichigo being present.
            Ginjo handed Ichigo his phone. With his lips right next to Ichigo’s ear, he said huskily, “I have some business to conduct, so put your number in here for me so that I can reach you at a more convenient time. I’m interested in getting to know you better.”
            Ichigo slowly programmed his police issued cell number in there under Izo. His head was starting to swim. He gave the phone back and slid out of Ginjo’s lap. He leaned over Ginjo, boldly capturing his chin and turning it, placing a soft kiss against the man’s jaw.
            “I look forward to yer call,” he purred in the man’s ear.
            Ginjo smirked and watched Ichigo leave with Loly.
            “So, Yukio, what can I do for you this evening? The usual dime bag?”
            Grimmjow felt like he died and went to the worst hell. Watching Ichigo be all over that fucking pathetic excuse of a man was probably the worst thing he’d seen in a while. He could tell Shiro hadn’t liked it much either, by the death glare the albino was giving the man on the screen when Ichigo left the room before snapping it off. Their eyes met and Shiro said, “You better take good care of Ichi’, or I will fucking kill ya. Tha’s a promise.”
            Grimmjow had no idea what Shiro was talking about, so he just nodded as Ichigo came bursting through the door.
            Shiro winced as the door bounced off the wall and Loly rushed to shut it behind Ichigo, going back to her regular duties.
            “Got im’!” Ichigo said excitedly.
            “Yeah, we saw, King,” replied Shiro crossly, his arms crossed over his chest staring murderously at his desk.
            “Aww, don’t be tha’ way, lil bro! We’re doin’ ya a favor getting him outta yer club, could lose yer license over this guy ya know.” Ichigo tried crawling over the desk to Shiro, who smirked in amusement.
            “Ichi, yer wasted.”
            Grimmjow grabbed him off the desk.
            “Come on, let’s get ya home, berry. You’ve had a long night.”
            “Ok!” said Ichigo with a stupid grin, leaning into Grimmjow as the room tilted slightly.
            “Have fun with that,” Shiro said as they left. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”
            Yup, someday I’m gonna murder that bastard, Grimmjow thought as he helped Ichigo into the elevator.
            Grimmjow drove back to Ichigo’s, trying desperately to keep his cool. Ichigo had the radio blaring, and was dancing and singing along annoyingly. Twice he had taken off his seat belt and tried to climb out the window, causing Grimmjow to have to drive with one hand and eye on the road and the other hand grabbing Kurosaki by the belt loops and yanking back in the car. By some miracle they had made it back without getting into a traffic accident.
            Riding the elevator up to Ichigo’s floor, Ichigo attached himself to Grimmjow’s chest.
            “You smell niiiice,” he told Grimmjow.
            “Thanks,” replied Grimmjow, trying to pry Ichigo off him.
            Ichigo only held tighter.
            They reached their destination and Ichigo informed Grimmjow he couldn’t walk, his body was too tingly.
            “Fuck, Ichigo, you got a contact high from the Pantera that fool was smoking. No wonder why yer acting like such a dolt.”
            “Soooooooory,” Ichigo said into his neck.
            “Well, if ya can’t walk, I’ll carry ya. I need some help though. You gotta let me go.”
            Ichigo had other plans. He locked his arms around Grimm’s neck and jumped, wrapping his long legs around Grimmjow’s waist and knocking him backwards into the elevator wall. Grimmjow gripped Ichigo’s ass to keep him from slipping off and pushed himself off the wall, exiting the elevator wearing 150 pounds of Ichigo.
            “Yer strong,” Ichigo said against the skin of his neck, his hands leaving their hold on Grimm’s neck to slide over the bulging arm muscles that held him.
            “Thanks, captain obvious,” grunted Grimmjow, leaning Ichigo against the door to unlock it with the key. He twisted the knob, kicking it open and catching Ichigo before he fell backwards into the house. He made his way in the house and kicked the door shut, doing his best to lock it while Ichigo decided to start planting light kisses across his collar bones.
            Motherfuck, he thought, hustling as fast as he could to Ichigo’s room. The man had destroyed the place earlier that night trying to deciding on clothes, because discarded outfits were all over the floor.
            He tried depositing Ichigo on his bed, but Ichigo didn’t want to go to bed alone apparently, fisting Grimmjow’s shirt and yanking him down on top him. Ichigo’s mouth was on Grimmjow’s before he knew what the fuck was going on, their tongues tangling as Grimmjow pushed Ichigo back into the pillows. He tasted of Bailey’s Irish Crème from all the shots he’d had, and something that was distinctly Ichigo.
            Ichigo moaned into the kiss and ground his hips fiercely into Grimmjow’s. Grimmjow growled at the action and then reality crashed in on him, making him jerk away from Ichigo.
            “Whater doin’?” asked Ichigo, trying to pull him back.
            “No, Ichigo,” Grimmjow said against every fiber of his being. “We can’t do this. You’re high and drunk, and I can’t take advantage of that. You probably wouldn’t want this if you were sober, so I can’t allow for this to happen.”
            “I do want ya, Grimm, can’t ya feel it?” whined Ichigo, rubbing his erection against Grimmjow’s. Grimmjow closed his eyes and shuddered. Ichigo was trying to make a rapist out of him.
            “If you still want this in the morning, we’ll resume this discussion. But you are too inebriated right now to think clearly,” he said, prying Ichigo’s fingers from his shirt and standing up. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”
            “Asshole,” Ichigo spat, sore at being turned down. He rolled over, turning his back to Grimmjow, who just chuckled and went to try to sleep off the painful predicament in his pants.
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The Streets of Hueco Mundo